What's In a House?
by ImSuperSiriusGuys
Summary: If Harry Potter sat by Draco Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express in 1991 and got Sorted into Slytherin House. Series-length story, going from 1991-1998. Who you share your Chocolate Frogs with makes a world of a difference.
1. The Hogwarts Express

**CHAPTER ONE: The Hogwarts Express**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: _The first two chapters borrow a few lines (none directly, similarities are by memory) from J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone". Will stray wildly from itself and the following books as the story progresses. I will place this one disclaimer to make it clear that I am not in any way associated with any of the companies, businesses or people(s) who own the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just borrowing the characters for fanfictional purposes._

**Author's Note:** _Hope you're in for a long story. This will be roughly 300k words long when finished, going from 1991-1998. If you're a fan of the other stories on this account, just want you to know that this will be written by Author 2 by herself. Of course, Author 1 will be supporting me and kindly beta-reading, but not editing or writing with me as is usual on this account. Therefore, the usual style you see from us is of course going to be ridiculously different. It's going to be long, detailed, quiet, angsty sometimes and heartwarming others. :) Enjoy._

* * *

"Watch where you're sticking those things!"

Draco Malfoy, a young wizard with a sneer that carried the ferocity of one who wore it often, glared down upon the witch pinning his newest robe to the right length.

The mousy woman ducked her head, murmuring her apologies. Draco rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

The bell rang from the front of the shop. Madam Malkin's squeaky, sugar-coated voice reached all the way to the back of the old store.

"Hogwarts dear? Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Draco's eyes widened with interest. He squirmed with slight impatience, twisting in a way to give him the best possible view of the mystery newcomer.

From the archway leading back appeared a strange looking boy. He was abnormally thin. His skin was pale as if he got little sunlight and he carried an air of surprising confidence for his small stature. His hair was crow black and wild, and upon his bespectacled face were two vibrant green eyes. His expression was confused, shy, but otherwise passive.

"Hello," said Draco, drawing the boy's green eyes to his face, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," the boy said. Draco paused very briefly for continuation. None came.

"My father's next door buying me books, and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said Draco. Again he waited for elaboration. Had the nameless boy gotten his wand yet? Did he like books as well?

Neither books nor wands seemed to interest him enough to warrant a response in the full twenty seconds Draco gave him to answer.

"Then I'm going to drag him off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

The green-eyed boy sent him a look that almost bordered on wary. Draco did not notice.

"Have you got a broom?"

"No," said the boy. Draco tapped his foot slightly. One word answers were hard to work with.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

Draco fought a scowl. Did this strange boy enjoy anything?

"I do," he began again, "-Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No." The boy then flushed with some sort of embarrassment.

Feeling responsible, Draco attempted to cheer him up with a joke: "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said the boy, looking a bit put out. Draco fished for a new subject.

"So, are your parents off getting books too? Are you going to look at brooms?"

The boy glanced at him. "They're dead."

Draco blinked. "Oh, sorry," he said quickly, a feeling of discomfort washing over him. He peered at the boy curiously. "They were our kind, weren't they?" Draco inquired – in his mind, changing the conversation topic rather tactfully.

"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" Draco rambled in an attempt to cheer up the rather put-out looking, young wizard.

Before the boy could give a proper answer, Madam Malkin said: "That's you done, my dear," peering up at him with a sort of knowing smile.

The green-eyed wizard hopped off the stool and nodded to Draco once, saying nothing.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts I suppose," Draco said. The boy blinked. Choosing to take that as a response and not an impulsive bodily function, Draco half-smiled as the boy turned and left the store in some sort of hurry.

Not long after that the mousy witch tending to him nodded, backing away. "You're done, sir," she squeaked.

Draco shrugged, hopping off the stool and darting to the front of the shop. "Father," he said, running up to Lucius Malfoy, "let's go look at racing brooms."

Narcissa Malfoy had caught up with him. "After you pick out your wand, Draco. I've picked some fine candidates but you have to be there for the wand to choose you."

Draco nodded absently, Lucius didn't look down. "Do you think that was him?" he asked Narcissa quietly.

Narcissa pressed her lips together in thought. "I'd assume so, I mean, the resemblance at least is very striking."

"Indeed," Lucius mused. "Not the same sort of attitude his father had though. More well-mannered."

"Who?" Draco butted in, curiosity burning.

"Nevermind that Draco," Narcissa said. "To the wandshop."

"And then brooms," Lucius added. "You're so talented that I'm sure they'll make an exception this year. Only a fool would turn down a talented Quidditch player due to a year's difference in age."

Draco beamed, his mind flitting from his parents' conversation for the time present, and he darted out on to the street, talking animatedly about how he needed a personal owl if he was to go to school.

* * *

The days following literally flew by for Draco. He played on his expensive new broomstick out back in the private Quidditch pitch, and he dragged his dad out to help him with his technique frequently. He bought several books on it and practiced all sorts of spins and loops and turns on his Nimbus 2000.

Mother began complaining when he started attempting to skip out on meals to practice, but his father pointed out that they should encourage his natural strengths.

He poured over the more interesting of his school books in the time he was confined to the house because of the weather. Despite his protests that real Quidditch players play despite wind, snow or hail, any light rain and his Mother kept him inside.

He practiced some hexes on the house-elves and some other simple offensive spells and charms on random objects about the house. The curtains in the living room suffered a strange burn one day, which surprisingly seemed to convince his mother it was a good idea for him to be outside playing Quidditch after all.

Draco walked over to the windowsill in his bedroom, reaching in a hand to brush over the feathers of his large, new eagle owl, Perfidis.

The owl twitched a little, blinking softly at the boy, and Draco smiled. He'd always liked owls. Father said liking animals was silly, and that they were only there to serve humans. Draco, secretly, felt that there was nothing wrong appreciating a job well done from an obedient, well-bred animal. They weren't like house elves, after all, they weren't born to serve.

_Speaking of which_, Draco mused, flopping down on to his king-sized bed. "Dobby," he said aloud.

A crack filled the air, and the ugly, trembling house elf lifted his giant eyes in Draco's direction, bat-like ears trembling. Draco felt a swell of disgust.

"Stop shaking like that."

Dobby froze. "Y-You called, Master Draco?"

Draco sneered. "Fetch me something to eat," he said coldly. "Quickly."

There was another loud crack, and he was gone. Draco blew out a long, slow breath and turned again to his owl's cage. He moved his fingers to the lock, and the cage door opened with a small clink.

_Crack_!

"Mistress Narcissa has told me to inform Master Draco that he is to eat a proper dinner when she says so, Master Draco."

Draco whirled on the elf, scowling. "You useless creature, couldn't have done it without intentionally running up to my Mum, could you?"

"D-Dobby didn't, Master Draco.."

"Away with you," Draco snapped, shutting his eyes.

When he turned around, Perfidis was perched carefully on his pillow. He let out the distinct hoot of an eagle owl, tilting his head as if to say: _why_?

"He's a house-elf, and I don't have to explain myself to you," Draco said. He once more tossed himself back on to his bed. Claiming his pillow as his own, he shooed the bird off it. The bird nipped the boy's ear irritably in response.

"I will put you back in the cage," Draco threatened snappishly.

The owl fluffed up his wings, as if daring him.

Draco glared, rolling his eyes. "Stupid bird," he said under his breath. The eagle owl flapped its great, large wings, then rested upon Draco's knee, pulling at his robes with his beak.

_Crack_!

A house elf appeared to the left of him. "Mistress Narcissa and Master Malfoy are waiting for you. You have fifteen minutes to prepare for dinner, Master Draco," she said.

He nodded, waving his hand in a shooing gesture.

_Crack_!

Draco sighed, and Perfidis lifted up into the air, swinging himself back into his cage and pulling the cage door shut behind him with a gentle tug of his hooked talons.

The blonde haired boy got up slowly, latching the door on the cage as he prepared to get ready for dinner.

* * *

"So, Draco, how is your new broom?" Narcissa started conversation at the quiet table.

Draco looked up from poking at his food and grinned. "It's fantastic! I'd bet I'm the only first year with a broom yet and I'm going to be on the Quidditch team, I'll be amazing! Everyone will be so impressed our first flying lesson when I show them how much better I am than all of them. Do you know I met another boy in Madam Malkin's and HE didn't even know what Quidditch WAS. Imagine!"

Lucius's lips flitted into a thin semblance of a smile. "And you've gone over your books for this year, yes? How is your new wand?"

Draco nodded. "It's all right I suppose. Father, Mother said I'm not to try making potions until we go to school, couldn't I try at least a simple one? Uncle Severus would encourage me to practice."

Narcissa huffed impatiently. "Get your elbows off the table, and Draco, potions are very dangerous and I should hope that Professor Snape would not encourage your unguided entrance to the potions world, as potions are very dangerous and testy things."

With a sulking expression, Draco removed his elbows from the table.

"You guys have been talking about Harry Potter, is he going to school this year?" Draco suddenly remembered. He looked up with excitement, glancing from parent to parent. There was hesitation in their expressions as they debated how to respond.

"Yes, there has been word that this will be Harry Potter's first year attending Hogwarts," Narcissa finally spoke.

Lucius nodded. "Though, Draco-"

"That's amazing! Do you think he remembers? I mean, he was just a baby after all. But he saved us, right? Aunt Andromeda says that he would surely have killed us all, I heard her talking about it with-"

"-Draco," Narcissa said sternly. "You're not meant to eavesdrop on adult conversations. There's a lot that is very difficult for you to understand right now."

He quieted for a moment. Remembering overhearing Aunt Andromeda saying that, and noting silently it had been the last time they had visited his aunt. It had been a very long time ago, too. He frowned, wondering why that was.

Draco sighed impatiently. "It might be easier to understand if you _told_ me instead of hiding things from me." He scowled at both of them.

Narcissa hesitated. "Draco, some day, when you're older, we promise to explain to you as much as we can. For now, don't worry about it."

"Do you think he'll be in Slytherin? The Potters were pureblood weren't they?"

Lucius's lip curled. Narcissa spoke up before he could: "The Potters were all in Gryffindor, Draco. Pureblood or not, I wouldn't go assuming that he will be quite so different from his parents."

Draco sighed, and Lucius took that opportunity to change the subject to some of the work he'd been doing in the Ministry.

Draco poked at his food some more. He hated...whatever this was. He wanted pudding. He'd have Dobby sneak some sausages for Perfidis and some pudding for him later tonight.

"May I take Perfidis to school as my owl?" he chirped up suddenly as his parents fell into a beat of silence.

"Of course, Draco," Lucius said.

Draco practically bounced in place.

"Eat some of your dinner, Draco," Narcissa said.

"I don't like it," Draco replied shortly, pushing the plate away from him.

Narcissa peered down at it. "What house elf made this again? I wonder if she burnt it a bit, mine does not taste quite right either."

Draco took this opportunity to dash away toward the back door. His broom laid recently polished just by the door handle. He snatched it up on his way out and within minutes was out the door and up in the air, the wind whistling through his ears and ruffling his blond locks. A bird flew nearby, letting out a cheerful, bright song as it went.

The Malfoy heir flew higher, looking down over the grand estate, the sweeping hills surrounding the manor and sighed deeply.

He was going to _Hogwarts._ Life couldn't be better.

* * *

Harry spent the month after Diagon Alley as a ghost in the Dursley's house. In some ways this was an improvement, but after a while it became depressing.

Any seat with Harry was an empty seat, to the Dursleys. Dudley would not be in the same room as him, and no one locked him in his cupboard or made him cook breakfast.

Most of his company was his new owl, whom he had decided to name Hedwig. She spent the days half-napping and the nights sweeping in and out of the open window, bringing dead mice with her often.

Harry pinned a paper to the wall of his new bedroom, and made a mark for every day until September first. On the last day of August, he figured it was about time he spoke to the Dursleys about transportation.

_He was really going to Hogwarts._

* * *

"Come now Draco, have you got your trunk and things?"

Draco threw himself down the steps of the manor, his trunk clunking angrily against each step behind him and Perfidis hooted indignantly through the whole bumpy ride.

"You're going to scratch up the floors like that," his mother scolded, narrowing her eyes.

He ducked his head, "Sorry Mother," he said.

"Nevermind that," Lucius said, gesturing to the glowing green fireplace, "let's be off, we are nearly running late." Draco silently mused that they were actually quite on time. Father always had somewhere to be however.

And old friend had called on him last night, since then Mother and Father had both been rather on edge. Draco had been sent to his bedroom for the whole of the visit - something about it being 'important adult conversations' that an eleven-year old had no part in.

Draco gathered a bit of floo powder, "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," he said, tossing in the powder, and stepped into the warm, green flames.

Shouts, rattling of cages, hoots of owls, and other such abrasive noises filled the air. Draco eyed it all with silent wonder.

A hand gripped his shoulder, Draco turned. "I'm going now, your mother will see you off. I will see you at Christmas." Draco nodded up at his father. Lucius dropped the hand off his son's shoulder, and headed back to the floo fires.

"Get on the train," his mother said after a half-second. She pressed a decently-sized bag of galleons into his palm. "We'll send more next week, your allowance will go up or down depending on how Professor Snape tells us you are behaving - tell him hello for us, by the way. You won't have a compartment left if you keep standing about. Your broom is in your trunk-"

"Shhh Mum!" Draco whispered, eyes wide. "First years aren't to have broomsticks," he whispered to her sharply.

A smile tugged at the left side of her mouth. "Oh right, right," she whispered back. "Just remember the unshrinking charm," she said quickly. She leaned forward, as if to hug him, but at the last second pulled back tensely, her mouth forming a firm line, as she waved him off.

Draco nodded, turning and heading toward the train. Perfidis hooted greetings to each passing owl, wiggling his black feathers as if to show off.

As he neared one of the train's doors, he saw a familiar flash of jet-black and green. He turned his gaze in that direction. Struggling with his trunk and a new owl cage - which held a lovely snowy owl - was the boy from Madam Malkin's. Draco smiled, moving toward the skinny boy and fishing for his wand - surely he could help, he might have only learned the levitation spell the other day but it wasn't so hard -, only to be beaten to it by a gangly, tall, red-headed couple of boys. Covered in freckles and in old, ill-fitting robes, Draco immediately recognized the Weasley twins. He scowled, remembering his Father's dislike of them.

The boy, timid as ever, nodded quietly when the twins offered their assistance loudly, finishing each other's sentences in a way they seemed to think humorous. Pushing sweat from his forehead, the skinny boy sighed in relief.

"Blimey," exclaimed one of the twins. "Are you-?"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to the boy.

Draco scooted forward a bit, eyes wide with interest.

"Harry Potter!" the boys chorused.

Draco's jaw dropped. He scooted to a better angle, trying to keep his distance, and sure enough a faded, jagged scar stood out upon his forehead.

"Fred! George!"

The boys' mother stopped their gawking, and Harry quickly took his chance to retreat into the train. Draco darted after him, lugging his own trunk up the steps with a slight struggle, and shoving his wand back into his robe pockets.

He peered about the various compartments, before his eyes alighted upon Harry, sat alone in one, his head turned to the window.

Draco pulled open the door. "Hello," he said quietly.

Harry jumped, turning his head to the door.

"All the other compartments are full," he lied, "could I sit here?"

Harry nodded, gesturing to the other side of the compartment. Draco pulled his trunk in, stuffing it into the corner, and pulled Perfidis's cage to sit on the seat next to him.

Harry leaned forward. "That's a nice owl," he said, "what's his name?" His hand subconsciously rested on the cage of the snowy owl he had brought along himself.

Draco smiled, a small feeling of pride budding in his chest as he reached his fingers between the cage bars and stroked the owl's soft feathers. "Perfidis," Draco said proudly. "And his?" Draco gestured to the snowy owl.

Harry leaned back. "Hedwig, she's a girl," he said, reaching in to stroke her as well. She hooted to Perfidis who blinked in response.

A whistle blew loudly, the train began to move.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco introduced himself. He thrust out his hand, smiling.

Harry returned the handshake hesitantly. "I'm Harry," he said. He eyed the boy warily, clearly waiting for the shocked exclamation he had received from every other person he had introduced himself to thus far. Draco however seemed wonderfully unresponsive aside from a slight nod and a smile.

"So are all your family wizards?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco nodded quickly. "Oh yes of course, the Malfoys are one of the oldest pureblood families," he said proudly, puffing out his chest.

Harry turned his head to one side. "What's a pureblood?"

Draco frowned in thought. "People with only magic heritage. Or, as of more recently, people with magical parents." He chose to leave out the more harsh criteria of a pureblood.

"I see," Harry said, pausing as if in deep thought. "Does it matter, if you've got two or just one magic parent? Does it make a difference?"

Draco shrugged. "Well," he mused. "Not.. in a large way. In the way you're seen, yes. And you won't have a lot of money in the magical world, and you sort of have to make a name for yourself. But, I mean, there are.. muggleborns."

"People with two muggle parents can be wizards and witches too?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, offering a noncommittal half-shrug and attempted to drop the subject.

"Do you think our parents knew each other?" Harry asked quizzically.

Draco hummed. "What's your surname?" he inquired innocently. Of course he already knew, but he thought Harry preferred people not to remind him of his own name every few minutes.

"Potter," he said quietly, as if afraid Draco would suddenly recognize the name and jump on him like a rabid fan.

Draco made his best effort to seem unaffected by this information. He was a very good actor, if he did say so himself.

"They might have. My parents were older than yours, I think. So I heard you went to live with muggles, for some Merlin-awful reason, what was it like?"

"Dreadful, they're horrid," Harry said. "Well, not all," he corrected himself, "just my aunt and uncle and cousin. And my cousin's friends. And most of our neighbors. And all the boys and girls in my school, and my uncle's sister.. and well..."

Draco nodded enthusiastically. "Foul sort, aren't they? Muggles don't understand magic."

Harry nodded, frowning. "Wish I'd had a whole family of wizards, or some sisters or brothers. You have any?"

Draco shook his head. "No brothers or sisters. That's all right though, I don't know if I'd like them much, Mum and Dad are so busy already, I doubt they'd have time for me," he said flippantly.

Harry nodded, wondering if the Dursleys might have been kinder if they hadn't had Dudley.

"So you must know all kinds of magic already, don't you?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "Well, I know ABOUT all sorts of magic, but you're only allowed to buy a wand once you've got your Hogwarts letter," he admitted. "Still, I reckon you and I are much better off than those muggleborns, I mean having it in our blood and all. It'll come really easy, you'll see."

Harry looked down at his hands uncertainly. "You think so?"

"Definitely," Draco said.

Harry bit his lip. "I've been reading the books, and I've been trying so hard to understand it all. I'm just worried I'll be rotten," he paused, lowering his voice, "I bet.. I bet I'm the worst in the whole class," he whispered.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course you won't be! Just because you were raised with muggles doesn't make you rubbish. I mean if you were raised with the Potters if they'd had any other living family, you'd have just the same sort of blood you do now. It's not like we get loads of practice. Besides," Draco paused, biting his lip slightly, "like I said, there are complete muggleborns, who've never heard of magic until they get their Hogwarts letter. You're already much better off than them, and you'll catch on quick."

Harry nodded slowly. He opened his mouth as if to say something when a smiling, dimpled woman ducked her head in the compartment. "Anything from the cart, dears?"

Harry and Draco leapt to their feet simultaneously. "I've not eaten breakfast," they both said at once. Grinning, they had a small shoving match on the way out to the corridor.

Harry'd never had pocket money for candy or sweets with the Dursleys. His pockets now rattled with silver sickles, bronze knuts and gold galleons as he surveyed the cart.

Draco, well-versed in buying candies, immediately began buying mass amounts of chocolate frogs. Harry watched him curiously, and Draco waited patiently for Harry to pick out what he wanted.

Harry stood, cheeks beginning to look a bit red. Draco smiled. "Pumpkin Pasties are good," he said quietly.

In the end, Harry filled himself a massive bag with a little bit of everything.

"Hungry?" Draco teased as the compartment door shut behind them.

Harry nodded quickly, taking a large bite of a pumpkin pasty.

Draco dove into his chocolate frogs, and Harry gave a small gasp of horror when the first one he opened gave a croak and began to plot its escape.

"Are those _real_?"

Draco laughed, shaking his head and catching the frog before it got away. He took a small bite. The minute the magic chocolate touched his lips, it froze. "Just enchanted," he explained. He happily downed the chocolate and began opening the rest, piling some strange cards face-down to the left.

Harry absentmindedly nibbled on a pink colored Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean.

"Be careful with those," Draco said suddenly, swallowing another piece of chocolate. "They do mean EVERY flavor."

Harry evaluated the taste of the pink jellybean carefully. "Bubblegum," he said with a shrug. Draco nodded. "What are those?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing to Draco's growing mountain of cards.

"Chocolate frog cards," he said. "They're a sort of collection. There's around six hundred and fifty total, and I've already got them all, except Ptolemy. He's really hard to find. When I was little I think I had one, but I lost it. I was really only in it for the chocolate back then."

Harry nodded. "Well let's see if you got one!" he said cheerfully, as Draco seemed to have no frogs left.

Draco smiled, and flipped over the stack of cards, spilling them across the table.

Harry grabbed one, looking excited, and Draco smiled. "Is it him?"

"No, it's Dumbledore," Harry said, sounding awestruck.

Draco deflated. "Oh," he said. "I already have one of him. You can keep it. In fact, keep all of these." He pushed the pile in Harry's direction.

Harry's jaw dropped. "Really?" he asked, surprised.

Draco nodded. "Really," he replied, smirking.

Harry thanked him profusely and offered him a pumpkin pasty, Draco happily accepted and they spent the rest of the few minutes in a sort of pleasant, sickishly-full-with-sweets silence.

The compartment door banged open suddenly, startling both boys. A bespectacled girl with brown bushy hair eyed them both. "Have you seen a toad?" she asked. "A boy named Neville's lost one."

Harry shook his head and Draco sneered. "A toad?"

The girl glared. "Well if you DO see one," she said shortly, "let me know."

With that the compartment door snapped closed.

Harry frowned. "What's wrong with a toad?" he inquired in an indignant tone.

Draco shook his head. "Owls are the only sort of useful pet." That being said, he reached in to pet his own. "They deliver the post, see."

Harry nodded in thought.

"You ought to change," Draco said. "I suspect we'll be arriving soon!"

Harry nodded, looking down at his crumb-covered, chocolate smeared jeans and shirt. He glowed at the thought of his new, clean Hogwarts robes.

"I'll be back soon!" he said, dashing out the door.

Draco passed the few moments of silence by letting Perfidis out. The horned owl quickly perched upon his shoulder, snuffling his hair.

Draco swatted at him. "You'll mess it up," he snapped. The owl responded by snuffling his hair once more. Draco sighed, resigned to his fate, and ruffled the owl's feathers for revenge.

Harry returned, and about two seconds after he'd settled back in his seat the compartment door was flung open once again.

It was one of the Weasleys, Draco noticed with immediate distaste. The youngest one, but certainly one of them. Same hand-me-down robes, freckles and red hair. He even had some dirt on his nose.

"Hi," he said.

Draco blinked. "Hello," he said smoothly.

Harry looked to Draco, then to the red-head, a look of familiarity flashing across his features. "Hey," he said, offering him a half smile.

The boy shifted in his spot. "My brothers, I mean, people have been saying that y-you're.. Harry Potter!"

He seemed startled at the very name, and Harry cringed. Draco rolled his eyes, a gesture not missed by the red-head, who sent Draco a short glare.

"I'm Ron Weasley and I- can I see your scar?" he asked, his expression a mixture of awe and shock.

Draco gritted his teeth as Harry flinched, his cheeks turning red. "Was there something you needed?" the blond asked in a cold, impatient tone.

Ron scowled, his ear-tips turning pink, and Harry flinched again. "Yes I'm Harry Potter," he intervened, attempting to prevent a fight. "And this is Draco Malfoy," he added, nodding to the blond.

"Oh," the ginger said, and then snorted a bit, a smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

Draco jumped a bit out of his seat, his face burning. "Think my name's funny?" he spat. He'd gotten this more than once in the past, his parents had been accused of being Voldemort-loving scum, Death Eaters, the like. But Draco knew better. His parents had been under the Imperius Curse, surely. His parents.. they would never _kill_ anyone.

"So what if I do?" Ron replied, his ears still pink.

"Just rich coming from _you_ is all, being a _Weasel_."

Ron's eyes flashed. "It's _Weasley__,_" he hissed. "Not that I'd expect any better coming from you. Slytherin - your whole family."

"Oh yes, how could we compete with the Gryffindor _heroes_," Draco drawled, his lip curling. "You've got a bit of dirt on your nose, Weasel. Now unless you need something, I suggest you leave. And I don't give out charity, so you're probably better off not asking to begin with."

Ron spluttered with rage before shaking his head and stalking out the door, slamming it harshly behind him.

Harry gaped at his exit, surprised and confused. Draco sat in silence as his cheeks burned with anger.

"What's a Gryffindor?" Harry asked finally, once Draco's posture relaxed.

"One of the Houses," Draco said. "Full of rotten wannabe heroes."

"Oh," Harry said. "They can't possibly all be like him." Harry left out his opinion that Draco hadn't helped the situation any. Draco couldn't control who his family was. Harry was related to the _Dursleys_ for Merlin's sake. If people judged him by how they felt about Uncle Vernon or Dudley... He shuddered.

Draco shook his head stiffly. "Loud, rude, and unintelligent, the lot of them. Only House worse is Hufflepuff, which is basically where you go when nowhere else will take you."

Harry nodded slowly. "So what House do you want to be in again?"

"Slytherin," he puffed up proudly. "Or maybe Ravenclaw, that'd be all right too I suppose. But they seem awfully boring. Teacher suck-ups and whatnot. Some are all right, though."

Harry nodded. "So where do you think I'll go?" he asked.

Draco hesitated. "Slytherin," he finally said. "At least, I hope so. I mean, the Hat will tell you."

Harry nodded, and opened his mouth as if a question had occurred to him, but just then the train came to a slow stop.

Harry pressed his face to the window, peering out wide-eyed, his heart hammering in his chest.

"We're here," Draco breathed. Slowly, shooting each other identical looks of fear and excitement, they made their way out into the flooded corridor.

* * *

**Updates every Wednesday and Friday. Aaaand sometimes more frequently.**

Review and let me know if this is worth expanding on? Suggestions, questions, requests?

**Reading and running is a crime! **('Kay not really. But it'd be nice to see a review.)


	2. Slytherin!

**CHAPTER TWO: Slytherin!**

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Happy All Hallow's Eve, everyone!_

* * *

Draco sat down in the wobbling wooden boat, beckoning Harry with one hand. The boat rocked back and forth on top of the sharp, black waves. It was late in the evening now, and the moon glowed overhead. The lights from the castle reflected in the dark waters.

Harry peered anxiously down into the Black Lake. "Did you see that?" he asked nervously, as he stepped over the boat's edges and sat down.

Draco peered over the edge into the seemingly bottomless, black water. "What did you see?"

"Something... moving," Harry murmured.

"Probably just the Giant Squid," Draco said reassuringly.

Harry's eyes flew wide in horror. "The-what?" he choked.

Draco shook his head. "It won't bother us. Though, I wouldn't suggest this place for nighttime swims, all the same. Other sorts of nasty creatures in there too. Grindylows and-"

Harry shuddered deeply, scooting toward the center of the suddenly unstable seeming, tiny boat.

"Don't worry," Draco soothed.

"Gee, thanks," Harry said with a hint of sarcasm, looking up with a slight smile. Draco gave a tiny smirk and looked over his shoulder to the great, towering castle.

"It's really something," Harry breathed as he followed the direction of the other boy's gaze.

"Mm," Draco agreed.

"I don't think I like the water," Harry decided. Draco laughed. Harry looked toward the looming castle again, this time with an expression not unlike trepidation.

"What was it you were saying in the train, about a hat? And sorting?"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Sorting, well, into the houses." Harry blinked at him blankly, a silent _Go on,_ and Draco continued: "There are four houses. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Each house is known for some sort of group of traits, and live together in a large area of the castle, which is separated into dorms for boys and girls and whatnot. You're sorted into your House immediately in first year – we're headed to sorting now."

Harry bit his lip. "I see. And… a hat?"

"Yes of course, the Sorting Hat is the hat that sorts people into houses."

"How does a hat sort people?"

Draco gave him a blank look. "What do you mean, how does it sort people?"

"I mean… it's a hat?" Harry tried again, furrowing his eyebrows.

Draco nodded slowly. "You put it on… and it sorts you into your House."

Harry gave up. "Ah," he said. Draco nodded and smiled. "So is there any guarantee that I… well that we'll be in the same House? Can people be friends if they aren't in the same House?"

Draco pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Don't worry," he finally said. "You're not dumb enough to be a Gryffindor. And you're not well… puffy enough to be a Hufflepuff."

"Puffy enough?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm not really sure what the Hufflepuffs describe themselves as," he admitted.

Harry gave a laugh, catching himself as the boat hit the shore. Both boys exited the boat carefully, Harry barely holding in a yelp as the dark water splashed against his ankles.

* * *

Draco peeled off toward the castle eagerly. Harry looked around for Hagrid, wishing he had been able to say hi to him earlier, but he was nowhere in sight.

Sighing, Harry took off after Draco. The blond boy had come to a stop at the back of the group of first years, and was talking with a tall, thin, awkward looking boy with dark brown, curly hair and bright blue eyes.

Harry approached hesitantly, eyes flicking between the two. Nerves knotted up in Harry's stomach. What if Draco already had friends? In his muggle school, a few people had been friends with him, only to ditch him when their other friends began teasing him. They teased him for his messy hair, for being weird, for wearing old clothes that didn't fit.

Harry's cheeks burned painfully at the memory. Unconsciously, he reached up to touch his unruly hair.

"Hello. Stephen Cornfoot," the tall boy introduced himself, "and you?"

Harry smiled. "Harry Potter," he said more confidently than he felt. Draco smiled between the two of them.

"Harry, meet Stephen. Stephen comes from a long line of Ravenclaws. He's a first year too."

Harry nodded. Stephen smiled at him kindly once more, a sort of patient, wise look in his eyes. He didn't act like the rest of the first years. Harry stared at him – he was peculiar.

"You convince your father to get you a broom over the summer, Draco? Never managed to convince mine, something about it being too dangerous," Stephen said, turning his piercing eyes to Draco.

Draco nodded enthusiastically and launched into a conversation that was so foreign to Harry, they may as well have been speaking a different language. Quidditch and Nimbus and Snitch and Quaffle…

"Is Quidditch a sport?" Harry finally spoke up, his curiosity overpowering his shyness.

The two boys rounded on him, jaws dropping simultaneously in a nearly comical way.

"Quidditch is_ the_ sport," Draco corrected. "It is the only sport played in the wizarding world. Harry was raised by muggles, Stephen."

Stephen nodded. "Blimey, that's torture. Not knowing about Quidditch well that's... that's unacceptable. I tell you, the both of you, we're sneaking out at some point to that Quidditch pitch and showing you the ropes this year. You'll love it, trust me."

Harry then proceeded to listen as both boys launched into entirely different tales about brilliant games they'd been to see, their favorite players and favorite teams and favorite moves. It still didn't make sense to Harry, but he felt a little warmer inside as the boys did their best to include him in their ramblings.

"-and really, they're the best team in the world if I do say so-" Draco's ramble about his favorite team was cut off by the booming voice and presence of an older witch, who now stood at the topmost step in the front of the large room they all stood in.

She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house. She had a stern, pinched look about her, but kind eyes. She was calm and firm as she explained that in just a moment they would be heading into the Great Hall, where they would then be sorted into their Houses. They were then to join the table of the corresponding House, and a prefect would lead them back to their dorms. They would receive their schedules by owl and find that their trunks were already in place.

Classes would start tomorrow.

Excitement buzzed through the crowd at this. Draco had been ignoring her the whole time as he greeted two overwhelmingly large, brutish looking first-years, whom he introduced to Harry as Crabbe and Goyle.

Both boys had a foggy, vacant look in their eyes, and permanent scowls. Harry found them very off-putting. Draco for some reason insisted on speaking to them all the same.

Draco smirked at the two giants. It was always good to have someone to blame and use in situations where you could find yourself in trouble. Not that Draco was planning anything like that. No, certainly not.

The students formed a single file line into the Great Hall. As soon as they entered, Draco acknowledged why it was known as the Great Hall. The ceiling was enchanted, seemingly going straight up into the night sky, giving the room a limitless, large appearance and aura. Harry looked about in awe, lips slightly parted as he took in the sights and the sounds.

Four large tables sat plastered in banners and distinct colors. The children and teenagers sitting at said tables didn't quiet as the first-years filed in. Some looked up curiously only to return to the conversations they were previously having.

Draco glanced over to what was clearly the Professors table. At the head sat Albus Dumbledore, and to his right sat Severus Snape.

Draco smiled warmly and lifted up a hand in a half-wave. Snape glanced from him to Harry, his face twitching for half a second into something unreadable, then back to a mute sort of boredom. He nodded once in acknowledgement to Draco's presence – which was enough.

The sorting went in alphabetical order. Thus, naturally, Draco went before Harry. The two stood in relative silence up until Draco's name was called. Harry's eyes were wide with fear, and Draco turned a bit to reassure him just as Professor McGonagall read the next name off of the parchment.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

There was a rustle of interest from the table decorated in green and silver. Draco boldly strode over to the stool and sat down, chin up. The Hat did not even rest on his head, talk to him personally, before loudly calling out "SLYTHERIN!" to the room. An applause rose from the Slytherin table and he darted down to find an empty seat amongst Crabbe and Goyle, both of which had obviously been sorted.

Harry swallowed hard as the Hat continued its sorting through the 'M' surnames. _What if I sit down and they put it on my head and the hat just won't sort me because I'm not really a wizard, I'm not good enough to be here. And they wait and wait and wait until they take it off my head and tell me there must have been some sort of mistake and they send me back to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?_ he mused to himself, his legs shaking.

He felt sick and dizzy and faint all at once when Professor McGonagall finally stopped and called out: "Potter, Harry!"

The entire hall fell silent.

_Oh why me,_ Harry thought miserably.

He trudged slowly toward the hat, his legs shaking just ever so slightly as he finally sat down on the stool. The old wrinkled hat was sat gently on his head.

_Hmm, difficult. VERY difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you? _the old, quiet voice of the hat whispered into Harry's mind like one of his own thoughts, and Harry shuddered.

_Am I supposed to answer him?_ Harry wondered desperately. Idly, he thought that Draco's sorting had not taken nearly this long.

_Hmm… Slytherin? You could be great, you know. It's all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, there's no doubt about that. Yes… Hmm._

_Yes, this will work. This will certainly work, in fact the more I say it the more sure I am. The only thing that could possibly work is... _"SLYTHERIN!" the hat crowed to the audience.

The entire Hall fell painfully silent. The hat remained on his head a few seconds too long, before it was sluggishly removed. A slow clap began at the Slytherin table, building in volume as Harry dashed to the green and silver table.

He sat immediately down in a seat next to Draco, who beamed at him so wide that Harry, despite the tension so thick in the air he could taste it, smiled back at him.

Whispers spread like wildfire from table to table, shocked expressions, stares glued to his skin. The sorting finished in a subdued manner, and the headmaster said some words before the feast began.

Finally, an older-looking boy who sat across from Harry and who wore a badge on his chest, managed a tight smile and reached out his hand for a shake.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Harry Potter."

* * *

After dinner Harry was scrutinized all the way down to the dorm. The prefect who had shook his hand at the table led all the new Slytherins to the dungeons, talking casually as he led the way.

"Your House is your family while you're at Hogwarts. And in Slytherin, just like in any family, you will find friends and allies. There are the girls' dorms on the left, and the boys' dorms on the right. Any boys who try to sneak into the girls' dorms will find that the entrance is hexed to males, and you certainly don't want to find out what the hex does. Girls, vice versa. The password will change regularly. Anyone who forgets the password sleeps outside unless someone is kind enough to let them in, which is unlikely because we don't tolerate forgetful idiots here. Now, any more questions and I expect you to figure it out, but if you need to – come to me or Professor Snape, who is head of Slytherin House. If there's a problem, try to work it out. Be up early and don't get lost, good night, and welcome to Slytherin."

With that, the prefect – who had never shared his name – trudged off to the boys' dormitory.

Harry looked around himself in quiet awe. Green flames flickered in a warm fireplace. There was a couch and two large, reclining chairs by the fire. There were cupboards and tables on one end of the room, which seemed to be a sort of dining area, and several bookshelves on the other end. Draco observed as well, his eyes flicking from object to object in a critical sort of way.

Almost every eye in the common room focused on Harry Potter. He flushed under the weight of the stares, fidgeting in place.

"This some sort of joke you think?" and older boy snarled with a sneer to match his tone. There was a group of older boys surrounding him, with matching expressions of disgust. "Dumbledore thinks it's funny to dump his little golden _Potter_ on us? I tell you what, this runt won't last a day in Slytherin before he goes crying to his Headmaster begging to be put with a new House."

Harry looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. He opened his mouth, cheeks burning with anger, only to be yanked away by Draco, up toward the boys' dormitory.

"Oh impressive really, targeting someone five years younger than you, brava, really. Let's go, Harry," Draco drawled sarcastically. With that, he and Harry – the latter albeit reluctantly – stomped up the steps and into the boys area of the dorm.

There was a long hallway of doors, each with two or three names on it.

"Draco, I - um, thanks," Harry said rather quickly. "But I could have, I mean, I was going to handle it."

Draco rounded on him, rolling his eyes. "Did you want to get in a fight with an older opponent within your first hour at Hogwarts? We'll prove him wrong, and avoid making an enemy if at all possible. Don't be dense, Harry. Never make an enemy when it's not inevitable."

Harry was quiet for a moment and Draco's hard stare softened just before he turned back around.

"I guess we get semi-private rooms to keep it from getting crowded?" the blond mused. Harry began to panic a bit as he realized the names were in alphabetical surname order.

"Luckily there are no Slytherin first year boys with last names starting with O or N," Draco said cheerfully, leading him down to their two person dorm.

Harry smiled at this but continued to ogle at his surroundings.

The floors and walls were made of stone. Lining the walls were torches with green flames. Rolled out on the floor of the hallway was a long rug that had a curling, green snake, baring its fangs, against a silver background. Green swirls adorned the corners. There was a slight chill that ran through the halls and in the common room.

There was also an air of quiet. Despite the fact that many of the Slytherins stared at Harry, none gawked or loudly approached him – save the older boy – and most only seemed mildly to moderately interested in the fact that he was there at all.

"Your trunk's by that bed," Draco said shortly as he bounded toward his own cheerfully, observing his new room.

Harry looked around quietly.

The walls were green and the floor was silver stone. There were two beds with green comforters and silver sheets. Silver and green pillows. The beds were Japanese style, with only a box spring underneath supporting them off the floor. Pushed against the bed on the left was Harry's trunk, and to the right was Draco's. On the far right of the room there were two couches. By each bed was a wardrobe. On the left side there was a door with the word 'Restroom' carved into a silver plaque. In the left corner closest to the door there was a dummy, presumably for practicing spells, and in the right corner closest to the door there was a sort of chemistry or lab looking table.

Harry quietly went over to observe his bed.

"This is my first real bed," Harry mused in quiet awe.

Draco looked up, surprise and then something like guilt flashed in his eyes. Still, he said nothing, and laid on his stomach on the bed, resting his chin on a green pillow.

"Maybe they sorted me wrong," Harry said quietly. "Maybe they shouldn't have sorted me at all. I shouldn't be here."

Draco jumped up at this.

"Harry, no, look," he said sharply. The shorter, black-haired boy looked at him reluctantly. "Look, you're my friend, forget what Hunter said," something in Harry's eyes glowed at this, like the green fires from the common room, "and you've only been here one hour. You were meant to be in Hogwarts. Trust me Harry. Everything's going to be… It's going to be great," he said.

Harry gave him a disbelieving look as he slowly settled on to his own bed.

"Can you believe we're here?" Draco said quietly.

Harry blinked quickly and shook his head. "Sort of worried I just got bonked particularly hard on the head and I'm going to wake up back at the Dursleys any minute now," Harry replied in a very soft tone. He laid on his back on his new bed and stared straight up at the ceiling, his mind clouding over with thought.

Draco laughed. He crawled across his bed and unhooked his trunk by pointing his wand to it and murmuring a simple incantation under his breath. The trunk sprung open. Reaching inside, Draco revealed a secret stash of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. He tossed a bag to Harry with a smile.

Harry smirked. "You're just hoping I'll get a bogie flavored one, aren't you? You disguise your attack as an act of kindness," he teased.

Draco laughed. "Already suspicious, now that's some Slytherin behavior right there. I tell you, Harry Potter, you're going to be the greatest Slytherin this school has ever seen. Except for me, but you know, second place is good too, so don't feel too bad-"

Harry threw a bean at his head.

* * *

Early update because the response I got from last chapter was way more than I expected! Wow! Thanks guys!

Plus, Happy Halloween!

**Trick or Treat!** Insert reviews into the bag, please. :D

* * *

**NOTE, ADDED 01/04/14: Theodore Nott was intentionally left out of the story. He will be added in later. That doesn't seem to be very clear. I was trying to let you guys know through the characters. Thank you!**


	3. Hoggy, Warty, Hogwarts

**CHAPTER THREE: Hoggy, Warty, Hogwarts**

* * *

******Author's Note: **_Hi guys! Two updates in a day will be far from the norm, I promise you, but you guys have just been giving this story so much more attention than I thought it would get, I think you all deserve this. And hey, it's Halloween, and that's a special day for Harry Potter! In a bad way, but oh well._

* * *

Draco woke up the next morning with a thrill of excitement racing through his stomach. He sat up in record time, looking blearily around the room.

Still at Hogwarts. In his dorm. And today was his first day of classes.

_Their_ first day. Draco glanced over at his new friend, who was still in deep sleep at the other end of the dorm. Draco shrugged and started getting ready. He settled all of his books into a bag, and headed to the restroom to get ready for the day.

After showering, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, getting dressed and packing all of his things he headed for the door, looking back at the still asleep Harry.

He paused in thought, before he finally dropped his bag, and wandered over to his bed to grab a pillow. He turned to his friend's sleeping figure, pulled back his Quidditch beating arm which now held a pillow, and gave Harry a good, hard whack on the head with it.

Harry jerked awake and gasped for breath, scrambling away. Draco tossed his pillow lazily back to his bed.

"You were going to be late, you're welcome, get up, we're leaving soon," Draco said. Harry breathed heavily through his nose, looking around without his glasses in distinct confusion. He turned to his nightstand, fumbling blindly for his glasses, before cramming them on the bridge of his nose.

"What was that for?" Harry gasped, a look of confusion furrowing his eyebrows.

"I just told you. You were going to be late, I woke you up, and you're welcome," Draco repeated himself in a drawl. "Do keep up, Harry."

Harry's eyes lit up with distinct glee despite being beaten into consciousness. He scrambled out of bed and rushed for the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with uncombed hair but new, clean robes.

Harry hummed a bit as he walked over to his trunk to retrieve his texts, only to find all of his books had vanished. He looked to Draco in confusion.

"Your books are already in the classroom, they'll hand it out when you get there." Draco patted his own bag. "This is for supplemental reading when I get bored in class."

"Right," Harry replied shortly. He patted his robe pockets to find that his wand was missing and promptly went into a state of panic. Draco huffed impatiently, hand on the doorknob just as Harry gave out a cry of: "Ah-hah!" and came up from the floor with wand in hand.

Draco rolled his eyes, a small smirk turning up the corners of his lips, and both boys headed out the dorm.

* * *

"First up is... Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall," Harry declared, looking down at the piece of parchment that contained his schedule.

"Do you know where the Transfiguration classroom is?" Draco asked as they boarded the switching staircases.

"I was hoping you would," Harry said, cheeks flushing.

"I do, I just don't know how to get there with the-" he cut off with a gasp as he made to stop off on to a landing and the staircases abruptly swung in another direction, "-bloody staircases. Whose idea was it to have moody staircases anyway, honestly? It's not helpful to anyone."

Harry and Draco dashed through the hallways, ducked under what Draco called a poltergeist "Naughty naughty, kiddies running in the hallways!" and ran in the direction they believed to be to the Transfiguration class.

Both boys sidled into the half-full classroom quietly. Draco turned to smile at Harry as they sat down. "On time, even early," he said proudly.

Harry nodded, smiling back at him.

Without speaking, both boys retrieved some parchment and their quills. Draco's eyes were glued attentively to the cat that sat at the front of the classroom.

Harry looked around as some of the final students filed into the classroom.

"Where's Professor McGonagall?" he asked Draco.

Draco looked to him, arched one eyebrow and shook his head in amusement. He then turned his eyes back to the cat.

Harry followed his gaze, and thought again about the name of the class.

Transfiguration. Was it possible that, the teacher, had-?

The rude red-head from the train came bustling in at the last second, gasping for breath as he looked around. He smiled to himself as he seemed to realize that the teacher was not in sight and he would not be caught for being late, and plonked down into a seat at the back of the classroom next to Seamus Finnigan.

"Decided to use those shortcuts your brothers gave you, eh Ron?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort just as the cat jumped off the desk, and midleap became a sharp-looking Professor McGonagall.

"Decided to join us, did you, Mr. Weasley?"

Draco snickered. A lot of the class gasped in surprise. Harry scribbled down some notes furiously, eyes flicking to the teacher and back to his notes as he did so.

"I-I got lost," Ron mumbled sheepishly, cheeks red from running and possibly embarrassment.

"Well, I expect that this won't happen again, for I'd hate for my own House to be the first to lose points this year," she said coldly.

Draco peered over at Harry's notes.

_Cat has markings around its eyes like that of Professor McGonagall's glasses. Distinguishing features always present when transfiguring yourself?_

Draco paused in thought as he considered Harry's notes. He looked back to Professor McGonagall and wished she'd turn back into the cat, so he could look and see if this was accurate.

Professor McGonagall turned to the front of the classroom and handed out the textbooks, simply flicking her wand and they began sidling on to the correct desks.

"Open to page one, chapter one, the Theory of Transfiguration. You will not need your wands for the first fifteen minutes, please put them away."

She waved her wand and writing began to appear in chalk on the chalkboard at the front of the class.

"Write your own notes from the text and copy the ones on the board now."

Harry scribbled down notes in a way Draco described as illegible, while Draco neatly copied down every piece of information on the board and the parts he knew to be most important from the book.

He and Harry finished before everyone else, and looked around the class. Harry seemed determined to take a picture of the place with his mind, and Draco had to admit that Hogwarts really was a beautiful school.

After notes they practiced a simple turn a match into a needle spell. Draco looked down at his match, held his wand and repeated the incantation with a flick of his wrist.

The match rolled over on the table, but otherwise did not change.

Harry tried as well, making a grand sweeping motion with his arm, but the match simply lit on fire. Harry gasped and began blowing it out frantically.

Both boys worked with the matches with the rest of the class for almost the entirety of the hour. They performed various forms of magic – floating the matches, rolling them around, setting them on fire yet failed to accomplish the seemingly simple task of making it silver and pointy.

"Why don't we work together?" Harry suggested. So they did. After critiquing and carefully scrutinizing each other's work, both boys managed to turn their matches into formidable needles. They earned ten points for Slytherin.

Hermione Granger, or the bushy-haired girl from the train, was the only other student who managed to actually make hers silver and sharp by the end of the class. Everyone else was assigned a large pile of homework and expected to master the spell by the end of the week.

"That wasn't so hard," Draco said cheerfully.

Harry sighed. "At least you didn't burn yourself over and over before we started working together," he mumbled, showing his reddened fingertips to the other boy.

"You were swinging your arm too much, that's why it kept lighting on fire like that."

"Right, right. Next is Charms!" Harry said eagerly.

* * *

The Slytherins had this class with the Hufflepuffs, and not the Gryffindors. Instead of a large amount of notes, Professor Flitwick immediately launched into an explanation of the first charm they would be attempting: The levitation charm.

Draco was already very good at this charm. He pointed his wand at the feather, demonstrated the motion and said: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather promptly floated into the air. Professor Flitwick beamed and walked over to Draco and Harry's table.

"See, now Mr. Malfoy's got it! Very, very good Mr. Malfoy! Ten points to Slytherin!"

Harry eyed Draco's floating feather carefully, and attempted the spell himself. The feather promptly shot off his desk and floated gently to the ground.

Draco corrected his wand movement again – Harry seemed to have a thing for large, sweeping movements. He did the swish just fine, but the flick was not quick enough.

The second time, Harry got it. Professor Flitwick was delighted and awarded Slytherin House another five points.

Draco spent the rest of the class floating feathers into people's ears while they weren't looking, while Harry took notes from the Charms book. No one else in the class succeeded in the spell, and everyone but Harry and Draco was given homework.

* * *

"Next up is Potions!" Draco cheered. "With Professor Snape," he added.

Harry nodded. "Which Professor is he?" he asked.

"The one with the black hair," Draco said.

Harry thought back, and nodded. "Head of Slytherin House, right?"

"Right. He's a friend of my mother's, too. They went to school together."

Harry nodded. "I think Charms is my favorite class so far," he said.

Draco pushed open the door to the Potions classroom and the boys picked seats in a middle row. In front of them sat two pewter cauldrons on fires.

"I wanted a gold one," Harry mused aloud, "but Hagrid told me my list said pewter so I should get pewter."

Draco looked at him with two arched eyebrows. "Is that who Dumbledore sent to help you shop?" he asked in a haughty tone.

Harry glanced over at him. "Yeah, why?"

Just as Draco opened his mouth to respond, the Potions door slammed itself shut behind one of the final students to enter, and a pale, dark-haired and dark-eyed man flitted to the front of the class, his robes billowing out behind him to give him the appearance like that of a great bat.

The Professor began by calling roll. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but he had the nearly unique gift of keeping an entire classroom of children silent without any outward effort.

He paused on Harry's name.

"_Harry Potter,_" he said, "our new-_celebrity_," he mused. Most eyes flicked to Harry and back to the Professor.

"Here," Harry said unnecessarily.

Professor Snape finished calling names.

"Wands away," he said in a cold, clear voice. There was some shuffling as the students who had them out stuffed their wands out of sight.

Snape scanned his gaze across the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry watched in quiet awe. The class was entirely silent. Professor Snape pinned him with an exceptionally hard, unreadable look for just a moment.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir," he replied evenly.

Snape arched one eyebrow. "Let's try again then. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry bit his lip. "In the… belly of a goat?"

Snape arched one eyebrow, but did not call him wrong.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" he asked, turning to look at the entire class this time.

Hermione Granger practically leapt out of her seat, her hand shaking with the need to answer.

"Sit down," he snapped at her.

She sat, but continued raising her quivering hand.

"No one knows?" Professor Snape drawled, looking across the class.

"Nothing, sir," Draco spoke up, raising his hand as he did so. "They're the same plant."

"Excellent Draco. Five points to Slytherin."

Hermione dropped her hand, a look of frustrated defeat on her features.

"You will now begin brewing your first potion," Snape said, lifting his wand toward the chalkboard. In a slanted, hasty handwriting, instructions for a potion labeled _Cure for Boils_ appeared.

"At the end of the class you will take a vial of whatever you have made, finished or unfinished, correctly brewed or a failure, and place it on my desk to be graded. If you open your books to page forty-two, you will also find the instructions there. You have until the end of class. Begin."

Draco began his potion with zest, and Harry followed suit. Potion-making came strangely naturally to Draco. There was no right or wrong hand movement or mispronunciation. Just one careful step after another, and swirling colors in a cauldron.

Harry began his potion by crushing the snake fangs, and adding 4 measures of the crushed fangs to the cauldron. He began heating them at two hundred and fifty degrees, leaning over and peering into the cauldron.

Draco quickly held out a hand and pushed Harry away from the cauldron. "If that spills on you, it will cover you in rather painful boils," he said.

Harry leaned back and turned off the fire, and turned to Draco to open his mouth. Draco shook his head. "Harry, read the instructions," he said carefully. Harry peered back down and flushed as he realized he was supposed to wave his wand before leaving the crushed fangs to sit. He waved it gently over the potion, which hissed in response.

There was then a thirty-five minute wait period. Harry spent most of this time peering over the other potion recipes in the book and reading the descriptions of each one.

"Look at this!" Draco said eagerly, pushing one of his 'supplementary reading' books into Harry's lap. Harry peered down at it curiously.

_Polyjuice Potion_

"It makes you look like anyone you want, for a period of time. You just need one of their hairs," he said excitedly.

Harry's lips parted in awe. "That's amazing!" he said eagerly. "We should-" Just as he began to speak, Professor Snape swept by their table, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Harry snapped his mouth shut, and peered into his cauldron innocently. Draco smiled in a naive way.

"I agree Harry, we should study it in a purely academic, textbook manner before attempting it in several years when we're older," Draco said slowly.

Harry nodded very slowly in response, eyes wide. "And when we attempt it, it will be for a very, very good, logical reason," Harry said.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes further before continuing his round through the classroom.

Just as Harry and Draco continued their potion, placing in four horned slugs and removing it from the fire, there was a scream from the front of the class. Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt the cauldron entirely, and it was now oozing hot potion on to the table.

Snape swept over, a scowl on his face. "Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville mumbled and squeaked unintelligibly. Snape told Neville that he would be receiving a zero for this assignment, and _no_ he may not attempt to make it again in Snape's sight.

It was cold in the dungeon. Harry acknowledged this as he realized he could see his own breath going up in a mist by the end of class.

However, by the end, both boy's potions were emitting the proper pink smoke as indicated it should by the textbook.

Draco shivered as he bottled up his vial of potion.

They placed their vials on Professor Snape's desk. He looked at them both evenly, his eyes resting on Harry for just an instant longer.

"Mother says hello," Draco said casually. Professor Snape arched one eyebrow and nodded. Draco took that as an acceptable response and headed off casually. Harry followed – the confused and angry look in Snape's eyes was, at best, unnerving.

After that they had History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and Herbology. Harry decided his favorite class was Charms, and his least favorite was History of Magic with Professor Binns.

"Don't you get a weird feeling about Professor Quirrel, though?" Harry said idly as him and Draco strolled toward their final class for the day – flying.

Draco frowned in thought. "Aside from the fact that he seems too scared to think about the dark arts, let alone teach defense against them – there's nothing that odd about him. Why?"

Harry pursed his lips. "It's just that- well, I'm not quite sure how to describe it. Sometimes, when he looks at me, my scar..." Harry's hand drifted up to touch his forehead, "it burns. Stings, almost."

Draco looked at him in mild concern. "Like phantom pains? Does that happen often?"

Harry shook his head. "Not until now."

"Hm," Draco mused. "Have you ever looked into curse scars? Maybe it means something."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know it was a curse scar until a couple months ago."

Draco nodded. "There are certainly some books in the library on it. Tell you what, after we finish our homework tonight we shove off to the library and poke around, see if we can find anything on it. It's not a normal mark after all, so maybe it's trying to… I don't know, tell you something?"

"What would it be telling me?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"We're here!" Harry cheered, and pushed open the grand doors that lead to the lawn by the forest that they were strictly forbidden to enter.

* * *

"Stand by your brooms, and firmly say _up!_" Madam Hooch instructed.

Harry held his hand over his broom, looked down at it, and steeled himself. "Up!" he commanded.

The broom smacked into his hand and he gripped it tight.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, normally you just get on it," he complained under his breath.

Harry looked over at him. "Maybe it's to make the kids who aren't so good at flying feel like they at least accomplished something this class?" Harry suggested.

Draco rolled his eyes. "No use in trying to flatter them just because they can't fly. You either can or you can't." He held his hand over his broom and said "Up!" for the fourth time.

The broom rolled to the left, hit him in the knee, and flopped back to the ground.

"Up, up you stupid broom!" Draco snapped. The broom promptly shot up and hovered on its own. Draco snatched it from the air, glaring.

"Very good," Madam Hooch said from a distance. "Now I want you all to mount the broom, hover just a foot off the ground for a moment, and gently touch back down." She held her whistle to her lips, but before she could blow it, Neville's broom had decided to lift him away.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch cried. Neville squeaked a bit in anxiety, his eyes wide with fear. From below, Ron and Seamus Finnigan called up "Come back down, Neville!"

Draco snickered. The broom kept going up, and up.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch cried again. "Come down this instant!"

"Help, help!" Neville cried, eyes wide with terror as he clung to the broom.

The broom was off. It flew forward then backward then propelled itself toward the castle wall. The students gasped in horror as it hit the wall again, again, again. Neville was jarred with each impact, before finally, he hit the wall with a fierce thud and the broom took off without him. He fell straight to earth with a sickening thump.

Draco laughed openly, earning a few sharp glares from the Gryffindors.

Harry elbowed him solidly in the ribs.

Draco coughed and his eyes flashed with irritation. "What was _that_ for?" he snarled.

Harry set his jaw. "It's not nice to laugh at people," he hissed under his breath.

Madam Hooch ran over to the boy. "Are you all right?"

Neville's lip wobbled. "My-my arm. I think it's broken," he gasped.

"Ooh, tsk, tsk, tsk," Madam Hooch said, observing the arm and shaking her head. "Looks like a broken arm to me. Need to get you to Madam Pomphrey." She helped Neville carefully to his feet.

Draco glared at the back of Harry's head while Harry looked on with concern.

"Anyone who mounts a broom while I'm gone will find themselves expelled, is that clear?" Madam Hooch said over her shoulder as she helped Neville into the castle.

Draco waltzed over to where Neville had fallen, broom in hand. He snatched something up.

"Look at what I found!" he said, smirking. He held up a strange, clear ball.

"It's a remembrall. It reminds you when you've forgotten something," one of the Slytherin boys spoke up.

Draco snickered. "Maybe next time it can remind him to land on his fat arse."

Harry pinned him with a hard, disapproving glare from across the field.

"I think I'll keep it," Draco said with an ornery tone. He stuffed it into his robe pockets and stalked back over to stand next to Harry.

"Why? You don't even want it," Harry argued, glaring at him and stepping away.

"So?" Draco returned.

"So what? Just put it back where you found it or give it back to Neville," Harry suggested.

Draco hesitated for a long second. Harry frowned at him. "What's the point in acting like this, anyway? What did Neville do to you?"

Draco gave a final shrug. He dropped the ball and kicked it away, huffing irritably.

"Whatever," he spat.

Madam Hooch returned a moment later. Both boys mounted their brooms in momentary silence, and all of the students kicked off the ground.

Draco hovered intentionally just about an inch higher than Harry. He smirked down at him. Harry glared, and raised his own broom just a couple inches.

Draco shot up a foot.

Harry doubled that distance.

"Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter! Get back down here this instant! I've already had one accident today and I will _not_ have another!"

Draco ignored Madam Hooch, rising just above Harry's broomstick in a taunting way.

Harry looked down at Madam Hooch, then back up at Draco.

He lowered his broomstick. Draco touched back down as well. Harry murmured a half-hearted apology, claiming his broom had been difficult to control.

Madam Hooch made a comment about these testy old brooms, and needing new ones, and the lesson ended in relative peace.

Harry and Draco exited the class in silence. Hermione raced up behind the two, settling into a walk next to Harry.

"I think that was very good of you, Harry," Hermione said. "Standing up for Neville when he wasn't around. No one else would have. I think it was very brave."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Draco cut in hotly.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter, ever the savior. Why don't you sod off, Granger?"

Hermione inhaled deeply, an insulted expression marring her features, before stomping off.

Harry looked to Draco quietly. His face was contorted in anger, and he did not meet Harry's eyes. Neither spoke on the way back to their dorm.

They did homework in silence. Not a word was breathed between the two of them before Draco finally looked up and said: "Well, we ought to go to the library and look for those books now."

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Draco offered him a small smile.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Draco, I-"

"You were right." Draco cut him off sharply. "Don't expect to hear it often. Come on, let's go."


	4. Flying

**CHAPTER FOUR: Flying**

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Sorry for really late post today (barely made it before 12AM eeeepp!) but at least I made it technically! Cheers!_

* * *

Harry and Draco ransacked the library of all the books with information on magical scars. They spent the night pouring over information. Most of it, sadly, pertained to werewolf scars.

"These are all about how to get rid of them," Draco complained, tossing the fifth book of the night to the side.

"I guess scars trying to communicate with you is weird even by wizard standards," Harry said. "Maybe it was nothing, after all."

Draco glanced up at him. "Maybe," he conceded. "Or maybe there just isn't much information on it because your scar is the only one like it in existence. You're the only person who's ever survived a killing curse, Harry. And each scar has different qualities depending on the spell that caused it."

Harry sighed.

"Look, over Christmas break you should come to mine and we can go through my Dad's library. Maybe there's something there," Draco suggested.

Harry looked up with a surprised expression. "Are you – I mean – I can come to yours for Christmas?" Harry gave him a dumbfounded look.

"Why not?" Draco replied, smiling but not looking up from his book as he turned the pages.

Harry smiled quietly to himself. The rest of the night was spent in peaceful, companionable silence.

* * *

"Wake up!"

Draco groaned as he was roused from his deep sleep, burying himself further into his pillow.

"Draco, come on! Or we'll go without you!" a voice that was familiar, but not familiar enough to immediately put a face to it, rang through his ears.

"Go without me," Draco growled through the pillow.

Stephen Cornfoot, now a first year Ravenclaw, snorted and stopped shaking the Slytherin.

"Fine, Harry and I are going to go play Quidditch in the dead of the night by ourselves then."

Draco shot upright. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he grumbled without thought, eyes narrowed as he took in his surroundings in the darkened room.

Harry stood off to the side, observing a broom in his hand that Stephen had clearly given him.

"How did you get in here?" Draco asked as he pushed out of bed, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced at Stephen accusingly.

Stephen shrugged. "A Ravenclaw has his ways."

Draco hastily got ready, retrieving his shrunken Nimbus 2000 and performing a quick unshrinking charm.

Harry looked between the both of them. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Stephen?"

"Always trust strangers that wake you up in the middle of the night suggesting you do something that could get you expelled. Ravenclaw wisdom for you, Harry." Stephen winked at him conspiratorially.

Draco smirked, Harry gave a sheepish smile. "I'll remember that, thanks Stephen," he replied playfully.

"Any time. Now let's go, and keep quiet – both of you."

The boys sleuthed through the halls, narrowly avoiding a patrolling Gryffindor prefect by the name of Percy Weasley.

"This would be much easier if we were invisible," Stephen said.

"It'd be much easier if you weren't a giant," Draco corrected.

Stephen cuffed him on the shoulder, glaring. "I prefer to think of it as everyone else is simply far too small."

The boys slowly made their way out to the Quidditch pitch. Harry stopped and looked around in awe once they got there. Flags rippled in the night wind.

"Now Harry, let me explain the wondrous game of... Quidditch," Stephen whispered mysteriously, grinning.

* * *

"Now Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each team. Three of them are called Chasers."

Harry nodded in thought, and from his robe pockets Stephen removed a shrunken ball. He performed an unshrinking charm, and Harry made a mental note to learn the spell himself. When unshrunk, the ball was about the size of a football (an American soccer ball).

"This ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Unlike the Snitch or the Bludgers I will be showing you, it does not fly on its own and has to be kept in the air by the players' hands. Ten points is awarded to the scoring team every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops on the opposing team's side. Follow me?"

Harry nodded shortly. "Ten points every time a Chaser gets the Quaffle through one of the other team's hoops."

Stephen nodded. "Good. Now there's another player on each side, who's called the Keeper. They have to fly around their side's hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Sort of like a goalie," Harry interjected.

The wizards shot him identical dumbfounded expressions.

"Nevermind. Okay, got it, Keepers block the other team from scoring."

Stephen nodded, smiling. He reached again into his robes and unshrunk a shuddering, shaking ball and a short baseball bat. He handed the bat to Harry. "I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do. The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two beaters on each team – I'm going to be a beater for Ravenclaw next year - it's the Beater's job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team."

As he finished this sentence, Stephen tossed the angry ball right at Harry's face. Harry, his heart rate spiking, took a mighty swing at the fast-approaching Bludger. It cracked loudly against the wood, and shot off into the distance before spinning midair and rushing right at the nearest person, which happened to be Stephen. Stephen cast a shrinking charm on the ball as it approached him, and caught it solidly in the palm of his hand.

"Nice hit, Potter. You'd make a fair beater," he said cheerfully, smiling at him.

Harry glared a bit. "You tossed it at my face," he snapped.

"But you hit it," Stephen pointed out with a shrug. He held his hand out for the Quaffle and the bat, shrunk them both, and placed the shrunken objects back into his robe pockets.

"Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker," Stephen continued. Harry finally resigned from his glaring and continued listening with interest. "This is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's _extremely_ hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. A game ends the second the Snitch is caught. So, obviously enough, if you have a good enough Seeker, you can win almost every game."

Harry extended a hand carefully toward the shimmering golden orb. It fluttered its wings gently, the moonlight reflecting off its surface.

"It's beautiful," Harry said idly.

Draco, making his presence known once more, began to mount his broom. "What do you say we go for a short fly, then?" he said, eyes lighting up.

Stephen smiled broadly, tucking the Snitch out of sight to Harry's dismay.

"How about it, Harry?" Stephen said, looking at the boy.

Harry snatched his borrowed broom up from the ground, grinning widely. "Let's go!"

* * *

"Keep your mouth shut and you won't swallow any bug- ugh." Stephen coughed a bit, massaging his throat with a scowl on the final word.

Harry pressed his lips together, a smile tugging sharply at the corners of his mouth. He looked down at the ground beneath them. It was a surprisingly natural feeling, flying. "Hey Draco!" Harry called to the boy, who was up above, drifting slowly higher. "Race around the pitch?" he asked.

Draco peered down. "Are you sure about that?" he asked. "You've only just got on. I really would feel bad racing against such an inexperienced flyer," he taunted subtly, raising both eyebrows.

Harry narrowed his eyes with a grin. "It's all right if you're too chicken," he said casually.

Draco took a steep dive down on his broom, pulling up just next to him. "Well let's do it then," he said sharply. Harry laughed.

Stephen agreed to be the judge and situated his broom at the designated start and finish line, which was the right side's middle hoop.

Draco and Harry leaned close to their brooms side by side. Harry laid nearly flat against his own. It twitched irritably with the need to go. Draco leaned just slightly forward in a casual, almost bored manner. His shiny, Nimbus 2000 was recently polished and reflecting in the moonlight. Harry's old, school broom was thinner with superficial scratches marring the surface, and some cracking at the top, the bristles at the end fraying badly.

"On your marks," Stephen announced loudly, "get set," Draco leaned closer to his own broom now, in a more serious way, "GO!"

The brooms shot off like rockets, the wind hissing behind them. Draco's broom's superior design and new quality gave it quite the edge, giving him an obvious advantage. Harry lagged behind, and as they passed the left side's hoop he began flying higher and higher in the air. Draco peered up at him curiously. As they approached the finish line – Stephen, that is – Harry laid flat enough to almost be a part of his broom, and took part in a nearly ninety degree dive downward, angled right at the Ravenclaw.

Draco laid against his broom as Harry's broom picked up speed from the steep dive, but Harry had timed it quite well. Having two options – to pull back or to fly straight into Harry's broomstick and topple them both over – Draco braked hard, pulling up the front of his broom sharply to give Harry's dangerously fast moving broom room to topple directly into the unsuspecting Ravenclaw finish line.

Stephen and Harry toppled toward the ground, both grappling desperately at their broomsticks and struggling to pull their bodies back on board. Harry managed to swing his legs back over the edge, and grabbed Stephen's hand before he could continue to fall, helping him back on to his own broom with some struggle.

Draco flew over slowly, a surprised expression plastered across his face.

Harry panted breathlessly, a wicked grin consuming his features. "I won!" he declared.

Stephen scoffed. "I think I, as the judge, should have the privilege to deduct points for nearly _murdering_ me," he huffed irritably.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I didn't-"

"-Think it through. Yes, I noticed. Flying seems to make a Gryffindor out of you," he sniped.

Harry sulked. "At least I didn't let you fall!" he protested.

Draco shook his head. Stephen nodded slowly as Harry's grin began to fade.

"You're a ruddy good flier, though," Stephen added after a pause.

Harry beamed. "Really?"

Stephen nodded enthusiastically. "Not seen that much raw talent in… well anyone, actually. Never seen anyone fly like that their first time in the air. Harry, you were brilliant!" he yelled now, over his momentary fear of dying a bloody death on the ground of a Quidditch pitch. He patted Harry solidly on the shoulder, beaming widely before something seemed to occur to him and he sulked.

"I was hoping the Slytherins would actually get a bad team for once this year, since so many of their best players were seventh years," Stephen said.

Draco sulked a bit over his loss and Harry turned to him, eyes glittering with excitement.

"Do you think I'll make the team, Draco? Do you think we could be on it together?" Harry asked, still breathless from his fly.

"Make the team? Only an idiot wouldn't put you on their team, Potter," Stephen cut in as Draco opened his mouth to respond.

Draco glared at Stephen. Harry looked between them both, shivering with excitement. "Could we try a real game?" Harry asked eagerly.

"We've not anywhere near enough players," Draco replied shortly.

"We could play a little game of Catch the Snitch though, if you were interested," Stephen offered.

Draco perked up at this. "I'm in," he said eagerly, a smile lighting his features.

"Oh, me too!" Harry said with a smile. He took his broom around them in a circle restlessly.

Stephen removed the Snitch from his pocket once more. "I'd be a rubbish Seeker," he said off-handedly.

Harry tilted his head. "Why?" he asked.

Stephen shook his head. "Just not my area. Hitting Bludgers at people, now that's fun. With a correctly timed and placed hit you can take down an entire team, with just a swing of a bat. Chasing down this ornery little thing that's near impossible to see, the entire game? Not rewarding enough."

Draco beamed. "I love it," he said eagerly.

Stephen dropped the Snitch, and its wings took off like that of a hummingbird's while it hovered in place, flicking in between all three player's teasingly.

"On the count of three," Draco said.

Stephen nodded. "One," he said.

"Two," Draco said.

The Snitch bolted, high into near cloud-cover, leaving no visible trail.

"Three." As Stephen breathed the final word, both Slytherins were off, Harry half a second sooner, straight into the clouds.

Draco's broom, naturally, pushed off faster and overtook Harry's in no time. Both boys shivered as they flew through the clouds, a damp feeling settling over their clothes. Harry's glasses fogged up horribly, and he rubbed at them with his sleeve, narrowing his eyes as he looked about.

Draco sat above the cloud coverage, shivering viciously, his teeth chattering as he looked back and forth, eyes peeled for a glint of gold.

Harry looked back and forth before diving down through the clouds once more, and peering back and forth through the open sky.

There, in the distance, just under the cloud barrier, the moon's rays reflecting and dancing off of its body, hovered the Snitch. It seemed to look at Harry for one very long second before Harry's broom shot at it, Harry glued nearly flat to its surface. His eyes stung from the force of the wind.

The Snitch didn't move. Then, finally, it began to sort of float back, closer to the castle walls.

Draco dropped suddenly through the clouds just above it, and it took a sharp dive. Harry and Draco raced for it, Draco going almost straight down, Harry at a sharp forward decline.

It flew closer and closer to the ground. Draco pulled up slowly as they approached, unwilling to barrel teeth-first into the ground.

Harry deepened the dive, and swooped his hand down. Cool metal met his fingers. He pulled the front of the broom hard and sharp into the air, his toes scraping the ground as he pulled up just in time.

Draco dropped beside him, lips parted in awe.

Harry panted breathlessly. Both boys had damp hair from the clouds. Harry's naturally messy locks looked hardly changed, Draco's usually meticulously groomed hair however flew in every which way now. Both boys had red cheeks as they panted sharply and quickly.

"Great catch," Draco finally said between gasps. Harry smiled so hard it made his cheeks hurt.

"Thanks," he gasped.

Stephen flew over casually, clearly having never planned on trying.

"Now that, that is what I'm talking about. You nearly ate the ground trying to catch that – now what person in their right mind does that? No Slytherin I know. You've got guts, Harry Potter. That, or you're just really stupid. But what is the word bravery but a kinder word for idiocy?" Stephen mused.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Cornfoot!" the sharp call of Professor McGonagall cut through the conversation. All of the boys' blood seemed to turn to ice in their veins as the slowly turned their brooms to face the stern looking professor in her pajamas.

"You three," she said very seriously. "Get down here, now."

* * *

"Can you believe?" Draco gasped.

"No, no I can't," Harry said, eyes wide as they shut the dorm room behind them. "I mean-"

"I know, it's-"

"Professor Snape, I mean I never imagined-"

"I know, but-"

"We're on the Quidditch team!" they cried in unision.

"I mean, we will be, as soon as we talk to Flint," Draco added hastily.

Harry shivered with excitement, flopping back-first on to his bed with a sigh. "What time is it?" he finally asked.

Draco glanced at the clock. "Four in the morning," he replied.

Harry let his eyes slip closed. "Hmm."

Draco plopped face-first on to his own bed, exhaling into his pillow.

"Sleep, now, I think, is good," Harry grunted from somewhere to Draco's left.

"Uhgnf," Draco agreed.

And the boys let the heavy darkness under their eyelids sweep them away.

* * *

Morning came soon enough, and Draco rose slowly from his bed, a headache throbbing in his temples. As he passed Harry's bed, he pulled the boy's pillow out from under his head and dropped it on the floor. "Wake up," Draco grunted, rubbing sleepily at his eyes as he trudged toward the bathroom.

Harry shot his head up, wincing a bit and covering his eyes as his head gave an angry pulse. His stomach rumbled with hunger as Draco shut the bathroom door behind himself.

He sighed deeply, laying his head back against the mattress. He shut his eyes for a few minutes while the water ran from the bathroom, opening them again when the door was flung open to reveal a more conscious, though if possible even more grumpy, Draco Malfoy.

Harry clambered out of bed and sidled past him without a word, shuffling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Draco grabbed some more books from the side of the bed, eyes scanning the pages of the one on the top of the pile.

If he read the word werewolf one more time he swore he was going to be sick.

The bathroom door flung open with a bang that startled both boys, Harry jumping a bit at the force of his own push.

"Let's go get breakfast," the green-eyed boy declared. He then gave his head a small shake, droplets of water flying off of his damp black locks.

Draco glared at the world. "All right."

"Good," Harry replied.

The grumpy Slytherins left their dorm and wandered into the common room. Harry was greeted by a few quiet first-years, to which he waved with a brief smile.

Draco ignored them all, walking out the exit quickly.

"Oi!" a hiss greeted Harry as the door behind Draco snapped closed, followed by a firm hand on his shoulder as he went to exit the room himself.

Harry glanced up behind him with wide, startled and confused eyes. Towering over him stood a tall, lanky, troll-like boy with a mean sort of permanent sneer on his face.

"Marcus Flint," he introduced himself. "I hear you and the blond runt are going to be my new problems. If you suck, we will injure you both on the field so we can replace you, clear? You get in the way at practice, you get knocked off your broom. You don't show up for practice, you're off the team. Professor Snape says I have to deal with you two so I will, but don't expect any special treatment because you're Harry Potter."

With that, the older boy strode off. Harry watched him go in angry silence. He opened his mouth to retort before glancing back at the exit, and remembering what the prefect and Draco had said about making enemies.

He decided the malicious looking boy was not a good enemy to make if he was going to be his Quidditch captain.

So, Harry turned to the door, and left for breakfast.

* * *

When Harry reached the entrance to the Great Hall, he was greeted by an angry looking Malfoy.

"Oh, hi Draco," Harry said tiredly.

"Took you long enough," Draco drawled. Harry smiled in response.

With a roll of Draco's grey eyes, they entered the Great Hall and meandered over to their seats at the Slytherin table.

Harry filled his plate with food as one of the first year Slytherin girls who sat across from him watched Draco with wide eyes.

Draco had set his book on his plate, ignoring the food and sifting through page after page, shaking his head in disappointment every few minutes.

"Draco Malfoy," the girl finally said in a quiet voice.

Draco's chin jerked up, eyes narrowing at the girl. "Yes?" he said shortly.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson," she introduced herself.

"Okay," Draco said. He returned to his book.

Pansy beamed, and she and the friend next to her began giggling cheerfully.

"Draco?" Harry said. The blond did not look up. Harry shrugged, resigning into silence for a moment.

"Are you going to eat, Draco?" Harry asked curiously as he nibbled on a piece of bacon.

Draco looked up, as if noticing the food around him for the first time. He looked to Harry, opened his mouth as if to reply, before closing it and nodding mutely, stealing a fruit tart off of Harry's tray, as they were all gone from the original plate.

Harry looked to the place on his plate where his sweet had been stolen, opened his mouth as if to protest before snapping it closed, and ducking his head.

"You aren't bothered I took your fruit tart?" Draco asked shortly, looking almost confused.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I can share," he said. He then smiled cheerfully at the befuddled blond boy.

Draco shrugged, taking a dainty bite of the tart and chewing thoughtfully as he continued to read.

Harry's scar gave a curious prickle, and as he looked over to the Professors' Table, it gave a sharp burn. Harry gasped a little in pain, his hand reaching up to gently probe the skin. It was hot to the touch.

Staring right at him, eyes wide, were two Professors. The first being Professor Quirrel. The second was Professor Snape, whose gaze continuously shot between Harry and the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Harry met Professor Quirrel's gaze, and for half a second, the trembling ceased and Harry could have sworn that his expression morphed to one of unparalleled, vicious, burning hatred and rage. Harry felt his very bones chill. But as soon as he blinked, the look was gone, and Professor Quirrel was nervously tittering to the Professor to his other side.

Harry was just about to remove his gaze from the table as the Headmaster himself pinned the boy with an intense look that one could only label powerful curiosity.

Then, the blue-eyed and greying man lifted his cup in a sort of toast, offered a small smile, and sipped from his goblet.

"Harry!" Draco snapped, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

Harry coughed a bit, his head spinning around to face the irritated Slytherin.

"I've been trying to get your attention a whole minute, been shouting your name to what might as well have been an empty shell," Draco complained.

"Oh, sorry," Harry replied quietly, his eyes shifting back to Professor Quirrel for just an instant before focusing intently on the other boy.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Well, anyway, look at what I've found!" Draco cried. He promptly shoved a book into the other boy's lap in excitement.

Harry looked down shortly. "Another book, oh joy," Harry moaned. "I do honestly think I got my fill last night."

Draco scowled. "It's important! And this one, well it's not as rubbish as the others. But fine," Draco snapped, snatching the book from the black-haired boy's grasp, "I'll just return it to the library then-"

"No, no, all right, how about we go over whatever it is you've found - what is it you've found?"

Draco leaned close, whispering conspiratorially, "It's about your scar."

Harry's eyes popped wide. "Oh, all right," he whispered back, realizing they had gathered the attention of some of the surrounding students. "Let's look over it in Potions or when we get the time?" Harry suggested, looking to the interested crowd.

Draco looked to them as well, nodding and stuffing the book out of sight.

"I'm exhausted," Draco finally said, after several moments of both poking at their food moodily.

"Mm," Harry mumbled sleepily in response. He then quietly rested his forehead on the table, closing his eyes.


	5. Troll in the Dungeons!

**CHAPTER FIVE: Troll in the Dungeons!**

* * *

**Author's Note: **_An update early, because, well, it felt like it needed one. I'll stop being so irregular some day, I promise._

* * *

The Slytherin duo carefully worked on their potion assignments in silence. Draco peered over Harry's paper for a moment and wrinkled his nose in disgust, promptly grabbing Harry's quill-holding wrist and preventing any further movement.

"Are you trying to be stupid?" Draco snapped scathingly

"What do you me-?" Harry started, eyebrows furrowed.

"Five points from Slytherin. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy is trying to work. I suggest you do so as well."

Harry looked up in open-mouthed shock, and blinked dumbly in response. Snape did not even look up from grading the papers he was bent over.

Draco frowned at him, as if in some sort of deep thought.

Harry scooted his stool away and fumed, continuing his work in silence. As he continued to work on his paper he noticed what he had been doing wrong. He already had his twelve uses of dragon blood listed. He had accidentally been writing the first one he had put down a second time.

_I'm so tired,_ Harry mused miserably. _Can't even remember what I wrote on my parchment five minutes ago. I'm probably going to flunk out of Hogwarts at this rate._

Draco, having finished his paper, began scrawling on a piece of parchment. Harry peered over with interest.

_Goyle,_

_Where is Crabbe?_

_-Malfoy_

Harry sulked as he realized the letter was most certainly not for him – who was Crabbe, anyway? – and sat back deeper in his seat as he continued proofreading his paper.

Draco had been somewhat out of sorts ever since he found out Harry was going to be playing Draco's favorite position - Seeker. Harry had offered to take the post of Chaser instead but Flint had said quite firmly that after evaluating them both, Harry was not a good Chaser and if he insisted on not being a Seeker, he would be off the team.

Draco persisted with being grumpy with Harry, despite the fact he had no control over the actions of the Quidditch Captain.

The blond handed the parchment to the person in front of him and pointed to Goyle. It was gradually passed to a big-boned, tall, mean looking boy near the front of the class. He seemed to struggle to read it – due to the handwriting or the fact that he had a hard time reading in general, Harry was unsure – and spent about an age writing back a response, which was gradually handed back toward Draco.

Harry took to ignoring the activity in the rest of the classroom as Draco received his response paper, and grumpily hunched over his work.

Class ended long after Harry finished his editing and proofreading. He stood up, looking to Draco as he prepared to go to Astronomy, and the blond boy looked back in a cold, quiet way.

Harry gestured toward the door with his head, and Malfoy peered back at a blank, confused looking Gregory Goyle.

Malfoy had a momentary internal moment of debate before turning back to Harry and nodding shortly.

The two boys strode off in collected silence toward their next class, not saying a single word. All the same, some of the tension between them seemed to fizzle away as they walked.

* * *

By the time classes ended that day, there was little to no tension left between the two young boys. The grumpiness of the lack of sleep seemed to be ending.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, looking at the ground.

Draco opened, then closed his mouth, blinking in surprise.

"What?" Draco finally decided upon.

Harry gave the boy a flustered expression. "For being Seeker," Harry said, as if it were obvious.

Draco blinked slowly. "Are you actually apologizing for that?" he managed finally.

"I – yes?" Harry replied.

Draco paused, inhaled, and then exhaled. "Harry," he began, "I…"

Harry looked at him quietly as the silence drew on.

"What I mean to say is, Harry," he tried again, clearly struggling.

The black-haired boy nodded, blinking calmly.

"It's all right," Draco finally finished lamely. He shifted as if uncomfortable, a look almost like guilt flashing over his pale features, before nodding in confirmation as he decided that was what he was going to go with.

"Do you, I mean, uh, we could - I mean, it hurt again today, at breakfast, my forehead, err I think the book-?" Harry struggled to make the conversation he wanted to have sound less weird in the bustling common room.

Draco nodded enthusiastically, a small smile pulling on the thin corners of his mouth. "Yes, okay, come on," Draco said with a hint of energy.

Harry beamed, popping out of his seat and darting toward the staircase to the dorm. Draco followed more sleepily.

Harry began bounding up the steps only to see that Draco had been stopped by Flint. Draco seemed unabashed by whatever Flint was saying to him, so Harry waited at the steps for a minute. Draco pushed past Flint as he ended their conversation, and nodded to Harry. They both began their ascent to the dorm.

"What did Flint want?" Harry asked curiously.

"Just wanted to attempt to bully me out of the team, I suppose. Something about showing up for practice but staying out of the way. I was thinking, after last night," Draco said, pushing open the door to their dorm, "the team really needs new brooms. The school brooms are slow. As talented as we are, if everyone else on the team is on dingy old brooms then we've not got a chance against the more well-funded teams, like the Ravenclaw team. I told him I'd talk to my father about replacing the current brooms with some Nimbus 2000s."

Harry's eyes flew wide with awe. "Do you think your Dad would do that?"

Draco laughed. "Sure. That reminds me, I've got to write him a letter. He'll be absolutely enraptured that I've made the team," Draco said eagerly. "I've got to write that now, actually," he added as an after-thought. He tossed a heavy, dusty book to Harry, who caught it just as it knocked him in the ribs. The black-haired boy gasped as he recovered his breath from the blow.

"Page three-hundred and sixty-eight, starting at paragraph two, I'll tell you my thoughts after you read it."

Harry nodded, tossing the heavy book down on his bed and flopping belly-first on to the mattress. He flung open the heavy front cover, filtering through the pages.

"Avoid page three-hundred and sixty-seven-" Draco added quickly as an after-thought. It was too late though. Harry had actually opened the book to that exact page, and the woman in the picture began her shrieking and wailing. The noise was so loud it rang in both of their ears even after Harry hastily slammed the book shut, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"The illustrations can be very verbal," Draco added. He settled his quill on his parchment and began writing his letter as Harry shook off his chills.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_As I'm sure you've already heard, I have been sorted into Slytherin._

_All of the classes are boring and without challenge, except perhaps Potions, which at least manages to be interesting with the help of Professor Snape. You should see the dunderhead they have teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, it really is a shame that Uncle Severus wasn't chosen for the position, but I guess there is a reason why you both are always talking about what an idiot the Headmaster is._

_I miss home terribly, the dorms are small at best, and are shared with one or two dorm-mates._

_I have made a new friend. His name is Harry Potter._

_He was sorted into Slytherin as well and now we are dorm mates. We are also soon to be team mates as we both have been placed on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Uncle Severus has kindly made the agreement to allow the age requirement to be waived. The school brooms however, are of course cheap and slow. It wouldn't exactly be impressive to be on a Quidditch Team that loses to Hufflepuff's. Father, please send brooms._

_I miss you both dearly, and cannot wait to see you again this Christmas. I have seen Crabbe and Goyle in Hogwarts as well but I am not so sure they're how I remember them when we used to play together._

_I've invited Harry to stay with us this Christmas._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco_

* * *

"I don't understand," Harry said, setting the book to the side on his bed as Draco entered the room again, returning from his long walk to the owlery.

"You know what I don't understand?" Draco replied, a look of irritation on his thin features. "Why they've not invented a faster way for Slytherins to reach the owlery. We're in the dungeons and it's in the highest tower. It really is an unfair setup."

Harry nodded, glancing up as he scrawled down some more of his essay. "A bit. So, Draco, about that book-"

"Yes, right, what is it you didn't understand?" Draco cut him off, striding over and retrieving the old, dusty book from his side.

"Well, how is it relevant, exactly?" Harry said, setting his quill down to the side and furrowing his eyebrows.

Draco huffed impatiently. "Don't you see Harry? This man, he was attacked with a wrongly executed Petrificus Totalus. Any time his attacker, an auror by the name of Peter Niffelus, approached him from that day forward, the scar on his kneecap would throb and his entire leg went asleep."

Harry nodded. "I got that, but ah, Draco. Firstly, I don't spontaneously die whenever my scar hurts. Secondly, Voldemort is dead."

Draco paused very suddenly, his eyes flying wide. "You said his name," Draco said.

Harry frowned. "You-Know-Who, I'm sorry," he corrected himself.

Draco stared at him for a long moment, before shaking his head as if to clear his mind. "Right, anyway – well yes, I mean, Petrificus Totalus is a full body-bind. This man however, only that leg was affected. So, it didn't work. Not even close to the full extent. But the scar, well it reacted. And yes I know that the Dark Lord is dead but, well, it's something, right? Maybe something in the school has traces of his magical essence," Draco offered.

Harry nodded slowly. "You could be on to something," he said eagerly. "So you think my scar is sort of, warning me, that it senses… You-Know-Who?"

Draco nodded. "Well, not entirely, but it's the first thing I've read in these books that was at least relevant to the scar itself and not how it healed or how to get one – you'd be amazed how many people want a magical scar and apparently need guides on how to acquire them – or how to hide them."

"What do you mean, how to hide them?" Harry inquired, a look of interest flashing in his eyes.

"Magical scars can be a bit fickle about being hidden, especially werewolf scars. They will actively destroy makeup and weak spells used to attempt to mask them."

"Huh," Harry replied quietly, leaning back on to his bed. "Right well," he said. "Thank you, Draco."

Draco peered over his book at the black-haired boy, eyes pinched in thought. "For?"

"For your help. I've never, well, no one's ever cared that much about things as stupid as my scar."

Draco shook his head. "You've just been around muggles. Anyone in the magical world would find that scar fascinating."

"Still, thanks."

Draco nodded. "What are friends for?" he said off-handedly, returning to his book.

Harry opened his mouth as if to respond before returning to his Astronomy paper. He smiled to himself.

* * *

Another month of classes went by and the two continued their study of the curious Petrificus Totalus scar case. Draco received an answering letter from his mother, whom expressed her sincere excitement to meet Draco's new friend and to have him over this Christmas. Father agreed to send brooms and expressed his pride but lack of surprise that his son had been put on the team.

It was the night before Halloween in Hogwarts.

Pumpkins were floating and Peeves was tormenting, the ghosts were sharing ghost stories. There was a brilliant chill in the air as the seasons began to change. Dew froze over in the morning and melted throughout the day. The Black Lake was beginning to frost.

Harry and Draco took to spending some time in the gardens surrounding the castle. Draco showed Harry a simple fire spell, and kept a blue flame in a jar to keep them both warm as they studied.

Harry had begun to develop a hesitant acquaintance with a Gryffindor girl by the name of Hermione Granger. It had started with his repetitive visits to the library. She did not have any other friends that Harry knew of, and being a Muggleborn, she didn't seem to buy into the prejudice that Slytherins and Gryffindors weren't to be friends.

Harry didn't mind. She was often more patient and helpful than Draco when it came to things he struggled to understand. She also knew the library very well, and often helped him find books.

Draco however was not overly fond of her. For whatever reason, he always got in a sort of grump when she hung out with them. He also insisted it not be anywhere near the Slytherin common room.

Come to think of it, when Hermione began studying with them was probably when they started having a lot of their study sessions outside.

Draco gathered up his books and the blue flame jar, standing from the bench in the garden. "We should head in," he said, looking only at Harry.

Harry prodded Hermione gently in the arm, causing her to start as she was pulled from whatever book she was reading. She started packing away her own things, offering Harry a small smile.

"Did you ever celebrate Halloween with the muggles?" Draco said curiously, beginning to walk away once Harry had finished collecting his own things.

"Not really," Harry said off-handedly. Draco peered at him curiously. He'd been awfully quiet the last week. Unlike the rest of the Hogwarts students and staff, who had been positively buzzing about the upcoming feast and festivities, Harry had seemed quieter and more reclusive than ever.

"In the muggle world, you go trick or treating. It's a sort of tradition where kids walk door to door, dressed up as all sorts of things, and the adults give them candy," Hermione offered cheerfully.

Draco glared at her, opening his mouth to retort just as Harry added: "I never did that though. My aunt and uncle only ever took Dudley."

Draco stared at him for a moment. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look.

"Dress up? As in they put on nice clothes?" Draco finally decided upon, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"No, they put on costumes. To look like… Vampires and werewolves and things like that. Monsters, usually," Harry said.

"Not always," Hermione said. "Girls dress up as princesses or witches or things like that. I was a witch last Halloween, actually."

Draco looked away, blinking.

"Muggles are weird."

Harry laughed. "What do wizards do for Halloween?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "It's celebrated as a time that spirits and the like are closest to the physical world. Or, it used to be. Now we just sort of eat sweets and have a feast. Carve pumpkins. You know, things like that."

"All Hallows' Eve. It's also recognized as the day to remember the dead, in some countries," Hermione offered.

Harry nodded. "My parents died on Halloween," he said quietly, strolling toward the castle door.

Draco blinked, opened his mouth and then closed it.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco offered. Hermione was red-faced and quiet.

"I didn't realize, I'm sorry Harry," Hermione added after a moment.

Harry looked over at them, smiling slightly. "That's all right. I guess that's all I really remember it as. My aunt and uncle declared it the day they got stuck with me. I would sometimes steal some of Dudley's treats the morning after, and I remember handing out candy to some of the neighborhood kids and eating some of the giveaway candy even though they told me not to."

Draco nodded. "I sort of remember it as a stuffy dinner with distant relatives that no one really wanted in the house. I usually got sent to bed early."

"Maybe Hogwarts will give us both some fonder memories," Harry said cheerfully, pushing open the door to the castle and beginning toward the dungeons, waving good-bye to Hermione, who still looked like she felt rather bad about what she had said.

Draco grinned. "Thank Merlin, she's gone. Harry, remember last week when I got that Potions book from the library? I found something I think we ought to try," he said as they piled into the warm common room, settling by the green fire.

"Oh?" Harry said curiously as he warmed his red fingers, resting his legs for just a moment.

"Remember Polyjuice Potion?" Draco asked under his breath, looking from side to side to make sure no one else was in the seemingly empty common room.

That being said, Draco eagerly tossed Harry a piece of parchment he'd copied some crucial information down on.

* * *

The next morning the boys filtered through the crowd down toward the morning feast.

"You're mad," Harry told him nonchalantly.

Draco laughed, smiling. "What makes you say that?"

"I read up on that potion last night. It's not supposed to be performed by beginners, it's highly dangerous," Harry said.

Draco scoffed. "Beginners? We're not beginners. All right, so we are, but we're very talented beginners. Or, I am. And you're all right, and you've got me."

Harry laughed as they piled into the Great Hall. Both boys stopped in awe as soon as they entered, along with another group of first years.

"Wow," Harry breathed.

The entire Hall was decorated with floating jack o lanterns. The ghosts were merrily dancing and cheering, floating from table to table to share death tales and what have you.

Even the Bloody Baron was floating angrily in one far, deserted corner of the Hall.

The ceiling was enchanted to represent a foggy night sky. The room was dimly lit and each table was donned with sweets and caramel apples and galore.

Happy chatters rose from every table, and Harry and Draco curiously walked over to their usual seats on the Slytherin table.

"Isn't it something?" Blaise Zabini, a new friend of both Draco and Harry, asked, eyes wide.

"It really is," Harry agreed, flopping down in his seat and reaching for one of the caramel apples. "I've never had one of these," he mused aloud.

Draco sat down casually next to him. "They're not all that great," Draco said. Despite his droll tone, he too was smiling and admiring the pumpkins. He retrieved a piece of pumpkin bread and carefully chewed a bite, looking about.

From the Gryffindor table, there came a distinct rattle of a plate falling and Harry turned a bit to look. A familiar bushy-haired girl went stomping out of the hall, trying to hide her face, and from where she stomped off sat Ron Weasley from the train, looking red enough to match his hair.

"Weasley's gone and made Hermione cry," Harry mumbled under his breath to Draco.

Draco peered over at the table, snickered a bit at Ron's flustered expression, and then shook his head.

"I'm sure she'll be all right," Draco said, smiling. "Have you tried the pumpkin bread, anyway?"

Harry cast one more hesitant look over at the Gryffindor table before deciding there was nothing to be done.

Pucey, the second year Keeper on the Slytherin team, was talking to Draco excitedly about their upcoming match – the first match of the season for Slytherins. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had started the year, with Ravenclaw currently holding first place on the way to the Quidditch cup.

"If we get just one hundred eighty points, we'll be first up for the cup already," Pucey said eagerly. "I'm a bit nervous about my first game though, you know? How about you and Potter? I can't have imagined playing in my first year. Takes some guts."

Draco opened his mouth to respond but just then the doors to the Great Hall gave a great, noisy clatter as they shuddered closed behind a shuddering, shaking, quivering Professor Quirrel.

"TROLL! _Troll_ in the _dungeons!_" he screamed, gasping for breath, his knees bouncing. "Th-thought you ought to know," he breathed. He then collapsed on to the floor.

Panic ensued. Draco's eyes flew very wide as he leapt from his seat. Harry rose slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "A troll-?"

"Trolls eat people Harry!" Draco called over the commotion. "They _eat_ people! And it's, it's in the dungeons! By our common room!" he cried.

Professor Dumbledore called for quiet, decreeing that all students would be lead out by the Heads of their House and prefects to their dormitories.

Professor Snape however was nowhere to be seen. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students began filing out first. No one but the Slytherins seemed aware they had just been ordered to walk directly into the troll's whereabouts.

The prefect from earlier in the year stood at the front of the Slytherin table, calling for quiet. "Now, as you're all aware where our dorms are, we're not going to be going there. Everyone, follow me, we're going to another designated safe area," he called.

The Slytherins, angrily and nervously tittering to one another, began following the prefect out of the Hall.

"Bloody Dumbledore, bet he was hoping we'd be stupid enough to walk right into the troll," Draco growled.

Harry looked at him in surprise. "Or he just assumed we knew better than to return to our dormitories when the troll was there," Harry offered.

Draco looked at him quietly before resolving into nervous silence.

Harry tried to picture what a real troll would be like. Probably ugly, and by everyone's reactions, very big.

"How big are trolls?" Harry asked.

Draco stared at him. "It – well it depends on the type. Harry, honestly, it doesn't matter. Trolls are vile, dangerous creatures, the big and the little ones. But what is a good question, is why is one in Hogwarts?"

Harry paused in thought. "Someone… let it in?" he mused.

Draco shuddered. "Most likely. Nice of them to put it by the Slytherins, wasn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "Who would do that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

The group continued on toward a designated safehouse before Harry, with a sudden gasp, grabbed Draco by the elbow and yanked him from the group.

"Hermione!" he said as a way of explanation.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco replied, pulling his arm from Harry's grasp.

"Hermione, she ran off after Weasley upset her. She could be near the dungeons, and I'm sure she doesn't know. We've got to find her Draco," he said insistently.

Draco exhaled impatiently, looking to the still-moving group.

"Harry, what exactly do you want to do? Save her from a bloody troll?" Draco hissed.

Harry glared. "We're just going to find her and warn her, and then we'll be on our way. She can't have gone far, I think she was crying."

Draco huffed. "As you said, she can't have gone far, so there's no reason she'd be in the dungeons. She's fine Harry, let's go," Draco said with finality, turning back toward the group.

He heard no response, only the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Turning around, he saw Harry had begun tromping back toward the corridor outside of the Great Hall.

"Harry!" Draco hissed after him, eyes darting from the group and back to the green-eyed Slytherin.

Finally, sighing in defeat, Draco darted after him, heart pounding in his chest.

* * *

"Where do girls go when they're upset?" Harry asked, seemingly unsurprised he had been pursued.

Draco glared at him. "How would I know? I was hoping you had some sort of plan when you decided to play hero here, Harry."

Harry shifted in place restlessly. "The bathroom!" he finally blurted, darting down a new corridor. Draco followed.

"How did you decide on a bathroom?"

"I don't know, isn't that what girls do? Pansy and her friends slip out of class to gossip in there all the time. Maybe they go there when they're upset, too."

Draco had an air of surprise as he nodded. "All right, fair enough. But," Draco paused as they approached the restroom door, "you're the one going in the girls' room, I hope you know that."

Without even a moment's hesitation, Harry pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

Draco fidgeted before finally following suit. "This is absolutely ridic-"

Draco was cut off by a loud thud from behind, followed quickly by a deafening crash and a roar.

The wall behind him fell in, and he jumped out of the way as pieces began to fall.

Harry was holding a red-eyed, tear-stained Hermione by the elbow when the troll came crashing through the wall behind Draco. Draco darted up to him, gasping for breath.

Hermione screamed, stepping back. Harry and Draco wore nearly identical expressions of fear and shock.

"The dungeons, I thought," Draco whispered, his lips suddenly very dry. He stepped back, close to the wall as the troll gave a furious roar and smashed a massive bat into several of the bathroom stalls, sending them crashing down.

The first years ran for cover, Hermione and Harry diving for under the sinks as Draco remained frozen in fear.

"Draco, MOVE!" Harry screamed as the troll focused up on the only readily available target.

Draco jumped as if being returned to consciousness just as the troll began swinging his bat. He dove to the side, into the rubble of crushed bathroom stalls.

Harry scrambled from his hiding place as the troll took a threatening step toward the cowering Draco. He pulled out his wand.

"Uh, uh," Harry gasped, mind reeling.

Draco reached desperately for his own wand which had fallen out of reach. The troll roared as he realized Draco was not dead, and as he prepared to swing, was bonked on the head rather sharply by a piece of broken wall from where Hermione was hidden.

Harry looked to his right. Hermione was shaking in place as the troll turned to face her, growling and baring its teeth.

Draco retrieved his wand from behind the troll, swinging to his feet.

"Bombarda!" Draco gasped, hitting the troll squarely in the back.

It roared in fury as a small, fiery explosion seared the skin on its back, spinning to face its new attacker.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry yelled as the troll raised his bat to swing at Draco. The bat flew from his fingertips, rising into the air.

Harry released the spell. The bat fell promptly on to the troll's head.

The troll stood in place for half an instant, shuddered back a few steps, before collapsing.

"That was brilliant," Draco whispered, taking a few steps back and gasping for air.

"Harry, Draco, both of you, th-thank you-" Hermione whispered, pulling herself to her feet, eyes wide in terror.

"Oh! Oh, my goodness! E-Explain yourselves, both of you!" Professor McGonagall's gasp cut through the following silence.

* * *

"You're a bloody Gryffindor, it's official. And you're trying to turn me into one, too," Draco said as the boys descended toward the dungeons.

Harry laughed. "I believe we won twenty points for Slytherin, not for Gryffindor, Draco. And the only Gryffindor in the room seemed, despite her cleverness, quite at a loss as to what to do in the face of a troll."

"A troll. A mountain troll. I can't believe you put me in the middle of a fight with a mountain troll," Draco mumbled.

Harry laughed again, grinning widely. "And we won. Us, a couple of first years."

Draco's smile melted into a heavy scowl after a moment of thought.

"You know," Draco said, "the troll was supposed to be in the dungeons."

"It wasn't anywhere near the dungeons, like Professor Quirrel said. And there was no way it moved that quickly," Harry finished his thought.

Both boys exchanged a slow, serious look, the joy of victory fading fast.

"You don't think?" Harry murmured.

"I have no idea. But we're going to find out, aren't we?"


	6. Quidditch

**CHAPTER SIX: Quidditch**

* * *

**Author's Note: **_An update! Yay!_

* * *

The week following the troll attack, Draco and Harry had their first Quidditch match of the year. Slytherin against Gryffindor.

They had gone to each practice. The entire team adored Draco, almost entirely for his Dad's extremely expensive contribution to the team. Draco however didn't seem to mind their reasons for liking him and soaked in the attention happily.

Harry was content to allow Draco to gloat and brag and absorb every bit of attention during practice that he wanted. Harry had, first practice, been targeted as the strange 'Boy Who Lived' and bombarded with questions that he barely understood. It was in some ways very relieving to be mostly forgotten.

He was still acknowledged by some players for his impressive broom skills, but Draco was not a bad player himself.

After the troll attack rumors had spread through the school like wildfire, it somehow became agreed upon in Slytherin that Draco had come to Harry and some girl's rescue, burning the evil mountain troll alive with a wave of his wand.

Harry had some idea that Draco's newly acquired fanclub – Pansy, Pansy's Friends One and Two whom Harry did not know the names of, Crabbe and Goyle, had probably helped spread this rumor to the far ends of the castle. Particularly, Pansy and Pansy Companions One and Two.

Draco himself might have helped that rumor along too. Harry didn't particularly care.

Hermione had taken to spending more time with the two, and Draco had seemed much more amenable to her presence after she had saved his life by throwing a rock at a mountain troll. Even so, he still mostly ignored her. He just stopped glaring at her.

The Slytherin duo however still spent the majority of time in each other's company, be it in the library or in their dorm, pouring over ancient text and working on essays.

Draco had decided that he and Harry would be 'practicing' their 'exceptional' potion-making 'skills' by creating and testing the dangerous Polyjuice Potion. He had devised a sort of large and grand scheme to find out if Professor Quirrel was the one who had let the troll loose in the castle, and it involved pretending to be someone with the help of Polyjuice.

Harry pretended to think it was a terrible idea, but it wasn't exactly like they had a much better one.

Even though this plan had been formulated by Draco, neither boys had even begun to make the potion. It was hard to find time, anyway.

Hogwarts was not easy. The classes were challenging, and even when not overly challenging they were time-consuming and slow. Foot after foot of parchment, aching hands and ink-soaked quills. Tying this all together with Quidditch practice was quite tiring for both, leaving little free time.

"I've not been able to convince Perfidis to let me catch him recently," Draco complained as the pair climbed the steps toward the Great Hall.

"What do you mean? He adores you," Harry replied.

"Apparently not as much as he adores Hedwig," Draco said sourly. "I spent at least 15 minutes chasing him around that owlery last night."

"Oh right, and you came back with owl droppings in your hair!" Harry declared as they entered the Hall.

Draco flushed, glaring at Harry who seemed to realize what he had just said aloud and was giving the boy an apologetic look.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

Draco looked from side to side, but it seemed the awe of Harry Potter being in the school had worn off fairly quickly for most students, as no one seemed to have heard his casual outburst in the noisy hall.

"It's fine," Draco replied, sulking at the memory.

"I could barely tell, your hair is so light. I'm sure no one noticed," Harry reassured him.

Draco glared. "Are you insinuating my hair is the same color as owl droppings?"

Harry flushed. "Err. No?"

Draco huffed irritably.

Harry plopped down in his usual seat. "Aren't you excited for the match?" Harry changed the subject, having realized a while back this was the most effective way to cure one of Draco's moods.

Draco perked up a bit, smiling as he slid into his own seat on the bench next to Harry. "Of course."

"Draco!" Pansy Parkinson squealed. "I'm so excited for you, your first game and all. You're going to crush those blasted Gryffindors, I'll be in the stands," she said. "Look for me!"

Draco nodded absent-mindedly and began serving himself breakfast.

Harry pursed his lips, his eyes flying wide for a moment as he touched his stomach and then looked along the table full of food.

He sat back, looking a bit green.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Pansy inquired, biting her lip. "You look a bit unwell."

Draco glanced sharply at his friend. "Eat something," he said.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat something or you'll feel worse. It's just nerves. We'll be fine. They're Gryffindors for Merlin's sake Harry." That being said, Draco reached out and buttered a piece of toast, setting it on the other boy's plate.

Harry exhaled shakily, nodding and taking a reluctant bite of toast. A moment or so after he did this, his stomach seemed to express some sort of agreement, and he began filling his plate and nibbling on some eggs and a biscuit.

Draco looked down at his own food as Harry finally began to eat, exhaling deeply.

_It'll be fine. Everything will be fine,_ Draco said to himself as nerves began to eat at his insides. He pushed his plate away just a bit, looking about nervously.

"You eat too," Harry said quietly, smiling at him from his side. "They're just Gryffindors," he said playfully.

Draco shrugged, taking a bite of bacon in an almost defiant manner. "I was going to eat," he snapped defiantly.

"What's wrong with Gryffindors?" Hermione inquired. Both Slytherin boys jumped, Harry turning in his seat to face her.

"Aside from that they're all idiots, not much," Draco offered dryly, not turning to face her. Pansy wrinkled up her nose as Hermione smiled back at the grinning Harry.

"I just wanted to say good luck with the match," Hermione said quickly. "Both of you," she added.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry offered warmly.

Draco didn't answer, and poked at his food.

Seeming to have run out of things to say, Hermione offered one last nervous smile before running off to the other side of the hall.

"What was she _doing_ over here?" Pansy hissed when she was gone, rolling her eyes. "A muggleborn, Merlin they're so vile."

Harry stabbed his egg angrily. "She's my friend, and she's done nothing to you. Keep your mouth shut," Harry snapped.

Pansy leaned back from her place, astonished. She looked from left to right, as if hoping someone would attack Harry in her defense. No one said a word, a few shooting Harry surprised looks, but everyone continued their meals in silence.

Pansy and Pansy Companion Two stood up from the table. Pansy huffed. "_Well_," she said.

With that, Pansy and Pansy Companion stomped away.

Harry sighed, finishing his meal in frustrated silence.

* * *

The boys tromped down to their dorms to get into their uniforms and prepare for their match, nerves buzzing in both of them.

It was November. A chill was set in the Hogwarts air and the Black Lake was thinly frozen over. In the late evenings, thin snowflakes would sometimes fall, leaving a soft blanket of snow that usually melted by morning.

"Where'd you get that book?" Draco inquired as he stepped out of the bathroom in his new, crisp Quidditch robes.

Harry looked up, also dressed in his newly-wrinkled robes. He had thrown them on and proceeded to sprawl across his bed and roll up the sleeves, eagerly flicking from page to page in a book that Draco did not recognize.

"Hermione lent it to me," Harry replied, shutting the book to reveal the cover. "Quidditch Through the Ages, it's really fascinating."

Draco shifted from foot to foot. "Ah," he said.

Harry glared at him.

"I think, you know, I think she's all right," Draco offered.

"All right?" Harry spat. "She saved your life."

"And we saved hers," Draco replied, unresponsive to Harry's hot temper. "Look, I'm trying to say Pansy was being an idiot. When isn't she though? Don't take what she said personally," he said coolly.

Harry swallowed hard, nodding.

"Well, I suppose we best be off," Draco said as Harry stuffed the book into the night stand next to his bed.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. After a moment's pause, some energy returned to his gaze as he looked up at his friend again. "Yeah!" he declared, practically bouncing to the door.

Draco beamed, the energy of the other boy proving contagious.

The excited duo zipped out of their dorm and through the common room, out into the dungeon halls. They received various calls of good luck and Draco responded with an absent wave over his shoulder.

* * *

Madam Hooch's whistle cut through the air like a knife, and fifteen brooms rose off the ground unanimously.

Harry's breath came short and fast, the icy wind stinging his lungs. He looked briefly to his right at an equally energized Draco.

Harry had taken up Seeker position as Terence Higgs had graduated. Draco had taken up the Chaser position. Flint also had to deal with a new Keeper by the name of Adrian Pucey, who was looking nervously to the other end of the Pitch. He was a second year, meaning this was also his first game ever played.

Harry exhaled deeply.

And the game began.

Flint made a dive for the Quaffle and Draco shot off like a bullet toward the far end of the pitch by the Gryffindor goal.

Harry pulled his broom up, up and up closer to the cloud barrier to give him the broadest view of the Pitch.

The commentator was Gryffindor, Lee-something-or-other. He made rude, derogatory comments toward the Slytherin team as soon as the match began. Not that the team didn't perhaps, deserve it.

Sometimes. Maybe.

Harry looked to the other Seeker, who had apparently been after something, only to have Flint fly directly into his side and nearly knock him off of his broomstick.

The Gryffindor team was outraged at Flint's foul play, blocking a Seeker from the Snitch was not looked upon very well. Draco took advantage of this outrage and scored the first goal of the match for Slytherin.

The crowds roared from the stands. Harry had pinpointed the shimmering Golden Snitch, and took his brand new broomstick into a steep dive.

The Nimbus 2000 shot off underneath him like an arrow, with amazing speed that would have left the school broom he had originally flown on in the dust.

He dived toward the Snitch. His eyes pinched against the harsh wind, and the commentator yelled as Gryffindor made their first score. Harry clenched his teeth, and began stretching out his hand.

Harry gasped.

His broom abruptly averted its course and bucked furiously underneath him.

A Nimbus 2000 did not buck off its rider. A broom like this? It just didn't happen.

Harry shook his head, grabbing his broomstick once more with two hands. It bucked harder now, throwing him nearly in the air and whirling around. Harry's hands were slippery with sweat as he clung to the panicking broomstick. It tossed his body into the air with the force of its jerks, but his hands remained firmly on the broom handle.

The Snitch was not forgotten. Harry watched it with fury and urged his broom forward toward it once more. The broom came to a screeching halt before pulling up at a ninety degree angle, dragging Harry straight up into the air at blinding speed.

Worried murmurs swept through the crowd. There were yells from the Slytherins, declaring foul play, roars of anger that Harry's broom had been tampered with.

Flint took advantage of everyone's momentary shock and focus on the skinny first year who was barely managing to stay on his wild broom as it attempted to throw him into the ground from a hundred feet in the air. He scored twice for Slytherin.

Draco flew over, eyes wide, shouting to Harry, but his words were lost in the vicious wind as Harry's broom ripped him about, bucking and spinning and going ever higher.

* * *

Stephen Cornfoot scrambled through the crowd, rushing down and out of the Ravenclaw stands, running through the slippery grass down the slope and slipping beneath the Professor's stands.

Already there however, was Hermione Granger, preparing to cast a spell on the leg of Professor Snape's robes.

"Are you mad?" Stephen hissed abruptly, grabbing her arm and dragging her away. "It's Quirrel, you imbecile, Quirrel!"

Hermione shook her head, opening her mouth, her eyes flashing dangerously. Stephen however decided he did not have time for that, and pointed his wand to Professor Quirrel's shoe.

"Concussa!" Stephen hissed. A spark shot from his wand and ran up Quirrel's limb. At the same time, Hermione had gracefully chosen to set Professor Snape's robes aflame.

Groaning irritably, he grabbed Hermione by the elbow and dragged her out from under the stands in a hurry, glaring.

"You idiot, did you not see that Quirrel was-"

"Let go of me, you don't understand-" Hermione snapped, ripping her arm from the boy.

* * *

Out on the pitch, just as Harry's broom took him racing toward the ground at unimaginable speed, he regained some control. Whatever madness had overtaken his broom was gone. He pulled up and put on the brakes, slowing and returning to the air, gasping for breath.

Relief swept through the crowd, and in the Professor's stands, Professor Quirrel seemed decidedly perturbed and Professor Snape was desperately stomping out a fire.

"What happened?" Draco called over, eyes wide.

Harry shook his head, at a loss for words, but nodded to show that he was all right.

Draco nodded once in response, eyes wide with surprise and anger, and both boys returned to the game.

Harry scanned the pitch for the Snitch once more. It had managed to escape obviously enough during his broom's wild spasm.

And then, he spotted it. The green-eyed boy did not even hesitate. His broom shot off like a bullet underneath him and the Gryffindor Seeker caught on quickly, seeing that Harry was after something. The two raced viciously toward the Snitch, hands outstretched. The Gryffindor glared at him as his newer broom edged ahead.

And the Snitch continued to zip downward. The dive got steeper, and steeper.

The Gryffindor was unfazed by this and continued straight downward. Harry laid flat to his broom but pulled the tip up just in time.

The Gryffindor was not so lucky. Having not wanting to give up and pull his broomstick up first, he face-planted into the ground.

Harry continued pursuing the Snitch, hand outstretched. He carefully began to stand on his broom as if it were a surfboard, his fingers getting closer and closer to the racing Snitch.

Harry impulsively took just a bit of a step forward, but it was enough to send his broom toppling forward.

Draco watched as Harry took a massive dive off his broom and tumbled on to the ground with a sick thud, the Snitch disappearing with his body.

He quickly stood from his tumbling fall, looking rather ill and grabbing his throat as if he were choking. Confusion began in the stands and Harry looked a bit like he might be sick. Finally, popping from his mouth and into his hands, appeared a tired-looking Golden Snitch.

Shocked and gleeful cheers roared from the Slytherin stands, while yells of anger and disappointment rang from the Gryffindor side.

Harry's legs shook beneath him as he held the quiet, shimmering Snitch in both hands at last.

It fluttered its wings softly.

Harry's smile stretched from ear to ear as Draco landed his broom next to him, clapping him warmly on the shoulder.

* * *

"Oi, Potter!" a voice called from behind Harry as he began wandering off the Pitch behind the rest of the team.

"That was a great catch," a similar voice said, and a tall, lanky, red-headed boy sidled up beside him.

"Or bite, or whatever you want to call it," another said, sliding up to his left.

Harry looked from left to right, recognizing the twins as the ones who had helped him with his luggage.

He smiled. "Thanks," he said, "Fred and… George?"

"Yes!" the one on the right said.

"You fly like a Gryffindor," the one on the left said, beaming.

Harry laughed a little nervously, shrugging one shoulder. "Thanks?" he offered, quite used to 'like a Gryffindor' being an insult or a tease.

"Don't mention it. Now slither on down to your Slytherin pals, they're waiting for you," one said.

"Bad play on words, Fred."

"My apologies, George."

Harry made a mental note that the one being called Fred was probably George and the one being called George was probably Fred.

"Well we'll see you around, Harry!" Not-Fred said.

"Yeah," Harry managed, laughing.

And with that, the red-heads dashed off.

* * *

"I must say, that is the most… original catch, I've ever seen," Pucey declared as Draco, Harry, Flint, him and the rest of the team piled into the common room.

"I'd say it was more of a bite," Harry replied playfully, grinning.

Cheers went up around them and some magic sparklers went off, spraying green sparks.

Harry laughed, beaming hard enough to make his cheeks ache. Flint was greeted by some friends and butterbeer, which had somehow been smuggled in. The whole common room celebrated, donning the place with green banners. Pansy was smothering Draco with compliments, the older students were sipping on some firewhiskey.

Draco managed to slip away from Pansy's claw-like adoration, handing Harry a mug of butterbeer.

"Have you tried this? It's-" Draco hiccupped, "delicious!"

Harry laughed, taking a sip. It was sweet, a bit salty, caramel and melted in your mouth. He shivered as it went down, exhaling deeply.

"You were amazing out there today," Draco continued. "Really. But," he paused, his glee-drunk expression sobering up for just a moment, "what was it that happened with your broom?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll tell you later," he responded as Pucey darted in between them.

"Draco, you were brilliant today mate! You scores put us as first up for the Quidditch cup, first match of the season!" Pucey cried, hugging the blond tight.

Draco blinked in confusion, splashing a bit of butterbeer on the floor in surprise. "Are we really?"

Harry laughed, carrying his butterbeer over to his usual seat by the fire and flopping down, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids and his muscles begging for rest. He took another sip of the sweet liquid, sighing.

"Good game, Potter," Flint's voice said from above his head. Harry looked straight up into the face of his Captain, and smiled.

"Thanks."


	7. Quirrel

**CHAPTER SEVEN: Quirrel**

* * *

"Good morning!"

Draco blinked sleepily at the pair of green eyes above him.

"It's Sunday," Draco said, closing his eyes again and rolling over.

"I know, I figured we could go out for a fly before breakfast," Harry said, the sound of his retreating footsteps music to Draco's exhausted ears. "Also, Perfidis has been trying to get you to wake for a while now, I'd assume. He woke me up so I'd help him."

Draco sat up sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. Perfidis promptly hopped into his lap, dropping a letter. Draco pet the owl's soft feathers, offering him a small smile. "Thanks, you can go on back to Hedwig now," he said softly. Perfidis gave a low, negative hoot, hopping out of the way as Draco unfolded the letter.

_Draco,_

_I've something important to talk to you about, it's urgent. Also, I got those ingredients you wanted. Meet me down by the lake before breakfast._

_You owe me five galleons._

_Bring Harry._

_-Stephen_

Draco acknowledged that Perfidis had clearly been instructed not to leave without a reply, so Draco lazily fumbled for a quill and scrawled on the back of the parchment.

_Okay._

He handed it back to his owl, which seemed to satisfy him, as he took off out the window.

Draco looked over to Harry, who had flopped down face-first back into his bed.

"Fly later?" Draco offered.

"Sure, why?" Harry asked as he popped up off of his face and sat up.

"Stephen wants us to meet him about something. He said it's important," Draco said, pushing out of bed and heading toward the bathroom.

He paused on his way in, staring at Harry.

Harry stared back. "What?"

"Do you know how to comb your hair?" Draco asked finally.

Harry flushed angrily, patting his head. "Yes, of course!" he replied hotly, crossing his arms.

"Just checking," Draco added casually. With that, the blond waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Harry huffed, patting his head, trying to smooth his bangs over his scar and sighing.

Draco returned a few minutes later and Harry popped up, trailing inside. Draco hummed a traditional wizarding Christmas song that sounded suspiciously like I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day as he gathered up his allowance pouch and stuffed it into his robes.

Harry came out a few minutes later, smiling. Draco smiled back. "Are you excited for Christmas?" he asked happily as the two exited their dorm and descended toward the common room.

"Yeah!" Harry said eagerly. "I never got to celebrate a proper Christmas. Not with any presents or anything. Well, not that I remember that is. I'm sure my Mum and Dad celebrated one with me when I was a baby," he said.

Draco looked at him sadly. "They really didn't treat you right there, did they? I wonder why they didn't just send you to a nice wizarding family instead. Perhaps because they're your relatives? Do you think they respected some muggle right for family to raise you?"

Harry shrugged. "Relatives or not, I think – no, I know – they would have been much happier if someone had suggested they hand me off to a wizard family."

Draco frowned in thought, looking away and sighing deeply as they exited the common room.

Harry looked over to his friend in concern. "Did I say something?"

Draco shook his head. "No, no, Harry, listen, you don't need those muggles to be your family, you know? You can pick who your family is. At least, you can pick who isn't, I think. So you're un-picking those muggles, okay? Your friends can be your family."

Harry paused as if in thought before a wide smile spread across his face. "Okay," he replied quietly.

The duo trailed down the grounds of Hogwarts, small snowflakes twisting and dancing in the air. A few landed in their hair, most noticeably in Harry's.

Draco snickered at him from his right. "You look like you have really bad dandruff."

Harry flushed, brushing away at the snowflakes and glared at the other boy playfully. "And you… Is that why you have such light hair? You magicked it that color so no one could tell you actually have a severe case of dandruff?" Harry accused.

Draco's jaw dropped and he huffed indignantly. "First owl droppings, now dandruff. I'll have you know I take very good care of my hair!" he snapped, patting his head indignantly.

"Ladies, ladies, you're all very pretty," Stephen drawled sarcastically as they approached where he sat by the lakeside. He brushed off his robes as he stood, looking rather grimly at them both.

"I'm not a lady," Harry protested.

"What was it you wanted to talk to us about?" Draco inquired curiously.

Harry flopped down on the grass next to the lake unceremoniously. He peered down at the frozen lake, its depths were black as ever as it swirled beneath the surface.

"Well firstly," Stephen said, still standing, "I had some things for Draco." That being said, he handed a suspicious looking bag to Draco who quickly stuffed it away, smiling triumphantly, and handed the other boy five galleons.

Harry bent straight back, looking up at them from an upside-down angle. "What things?" he asked, blinking. His glasses began to slip so he quickly righted his sitting position.

"Polyjuice ingredients," Draco said happily.

"Oh right!" Harry said, scooting around until he was sitting facing them. "All right, so what else?"

Stephen sighed heavily. "No brilliant way to say this, and I doubt either of you are fond of beating around the bush. So, Harry, Professor Quirrel was hexing your broomstick the other day."

Harry gaped and Draco's eyes flew wide, glimmering with a mixture of glee and rage that looked rather manic on the boy. "I knew it!" Draco shouted, drawing some attention from the few students out at this time on a Sunday. Stephen glared at him and he lowered his tone. "He's also the one who let the troll loose in the castle. I'm absolutely sure of it. We've just got to figure out _why_," Draco said.

"Yes, why does one of the teachers seem to want me dead?" Harry said miserably. "I've barely been here two months."

Stephen and Draco sat, both clearly deep in thought.

"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" Stephen began just as Draco's head popped up.

Harry shook his head and Draco continued Stephen's train of thought. "Well, Harry, clearly it's nothing you've done since you're been reintroduced to the wizarding world. You've not been here long enough, right?"

"Right," Harry said, nodding.

"And nobody here cares about what you did in the muggle world, no offense," Stephen added.

"You mean, you think this has to do with Voldemort?"

Both boys' leaned back, a shiver running down their spines.

"Sorry, You-Know-Who," Harry corrected himself.

Draco nodded slowly. "I do. It's possible Quirrel is one of his old supporters?"

"Trying to get rid of Harry out of revenge?" Stephen suggested.

Draco shrugged. "It's possible. But whatever reason it is, we're going to find out," Draco said with determination, rising to his feet. Harry and Stephen got up as well, Stephen looking anxiously back toward the castle.

"I've got some last-minute studying to do for History of Magic," he said. "But keep me posted, yeah?" With an over-the-shoulder wave, the Ravenclaw boy ran off.

"My scar has always hurt when I've been around Quirrel," Harry blurted as soon as the Ravenclaw was out of earshot.

Draco's eyes flew wide. "Do you have any idea what this means, Harry?" Draco whispered, seemingly unsure whether to be wildly pleased with himself or intensely angry at Quirrel.

"It means… Quirrel is… carrying something that has traces of Voldemort?" Harry pinched his eyebrows in thought.

Draco flinched at the name but nodded enthusiastically. "We've got to find out what it is. We've got to tell Professor Snape," Draco said, rushing toward the castle.

Harry followed, running at his side. "What if he doesn't believe us?"

Draco shrugged. "We get some hard evidence of our own, then we go to him."

"I don't think we're going to get to use that Polyjuice Potion," Harry said sadly.

Draco shrugged. "Always good to have though."

The boys headed in for breakfast, deep in thought. Neither spoke to each other as they formulated plans. There wasn't any of it they could say in front of the other students, anyway.

* * *

"Any progress?" Harry inquired from where he lay on his back on the floor of their dorm. A few weeks had passed since their talk with Stephen about Quirrel.

Draco shook his head, sighing deeply. "There's nothing. Nothing. He wears the same turban every day, if that means anything. Aside from that I've not seen anything he's overly protective of or that he keeps around. He's just… nervous."

"Nervous people are usually hiding something," Harry said.

Draco nodded. "Well, do you think his turban is some sort of magical artifact?" he asked, falling back on to the couch with a deep sigh.

Harry shook his head. "No, no I doubt it."

"I'm so close," Draco complained. "I can feel it. But I just can't… I'm missing something, Harry."

Harry shot him a sympathetic look, nodding. "We'll find it, any progress on the invisibility spell?" he asked.

Draco nodded, sitting up. "I can turn just about any inanimate object invisible but not myself."

"Still having the disappearing clothes problem?"

Draco flushed, glaring. "Yes – I mean, no. It's not a problem, it's supposed to happen!" Draco protested.

"Yes, but you're supposed to disappear too," Harry said, snickering a bit.

Draco huffed. "It's not so easy. Have you been practicing any?" he asked accusingly.

Harry nodded. "Mrs. Norris is missing. I feel really bad but I honestly don't know how to find her and set her right. She kind of ran off."

Draco looked up, lips parted.

"You made Mrs. Norris disappear?"

Harry flushed. "Oops?"

"Filch is going to murder you if he finds out," Draco said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Harry started laughing. "I'll find her eventually."

Draco sat back. "So that's why you've been leaving the bowls of cream around?"

Harry nodded. "Any better ideas?"

"I'm sure she'll head back to Filch and he'll figure out what's happened soon enough and someone will set it right. But maybe we could get some cat food."

"Where do you think we could get some cat food?"

"Hogsmeade," Draco said, yawning. "Black Cat Goods is where Aunt Andromeda gets her cat's special food."

Harry laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "I wish I had more aunts and uncles," he said.

Draco looked down at him. "They're not that great," he murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"Half of mine are in Azkaban," he mumbled, blinking sleepily.

"Azkaban?"

"High-security wizard prison. Guarded with dementors."

"What are dementors?"

"They suck out your soul. Sort of magical creature, I guess." Draco repressed a yawn, tapping the cover of a book next to him in thought.

"Oh. I'm sorry Draco."

"That's all right. They're there because some of them were insane and they fought for… for V-… for Voldemort, in the war," he said, struggling with the name but forcing it out.

Harry sat up in surprise. "Really?" he said.

Draco nodded, still lying on his back on the couch.

Harry laid back, staring up at the ceiling once more.

"My Aunt Marge is really fat, and every time she comes over she tells my aunt and uncle that they should have sent me off to an adoption center. And she has mean dogs, that chase me 'round," he said.

Draco frowned. "Family kind of stinks," he offered insightfully.

Harry nodded. "Especially aunts."

"Especially aunts," Draco concurred.

* * *

"'Arry! All right there, Harry?" Hagrid's loud voice called from a short distance away. Harry looked up with a beam, waving eagerly.

"Hagrid!" he called from where he sat in the snowy garden with Draco and Hermione. It was December 1st, and all of Hogwarts was in the Christmas mood already.

Hagrid made his way over, lugging a particularly large pine tree behind him.

Draco scowled, scribbling down some Potions notes and glaring at the parchment. Hermione looked up with interest.

"Hagrid, it's so good to see you," Harry said, hopping out of his seat, his own parchment forgotten. "I've been so busy, I've not had time to come down and visit. How have you been, Hagrid?"

Hagrid smiled, his dark eyes bright and cheerful. "Oh I've been all righ' Harry. And you? Hope you've been settlin' in?" he inquired.

Harry nodded, then beamed as if something had occurred to him. "I've been great, it's been great!"

Draco scoffed under his breath but attempted to disguise it as a cough, shaking his head.

Harry looked over at Draco and Hermione. "Oh and that reminds me – Hagrid, this is Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," Harry introduced, smiling.

Hagrid smiled kindly. "Nice ter meet you Draco; Hermione."

Draco looked up slowly, his face a calm, arrogant mask but his eyes flashing with meanness. He opened his mouth to respond but Harry cut him off. "He's got a cold, his throat's been sore. I think everyone's getting a bit of it in this weather," Harry said quickly.

"It's nice to meet you too Hagrid," Hermione said softly, smiling.

Draco sneered, glaring at Harry and returned reluctantly to his parchment.

Hagrid nodded. "Well then he should see Madame Pomphrey! Ain't no one else better at fixin' something like that right up."

Harry nodded. "You're right, I'll make him go when we head back in. Hagrid, you wouldn't happen to know if there's anything rather… special or important to Professor Quirrel? Something he never lets out of his sight?"

Hagrid frowned in thought and surprise at the abrupt change of topic. "Professor Quirrel? Now why would yeh be askin' about somethin' like that?"

"Because Professor Quirrel is-" Hermione started.

Draco looked up. "Harry, I've finished, I'll be going in now. I'll see you in the common room," he said coolly, in a voice clearly not sore or weak. He gathered up his things and began stomping up to the castle.

Hagrid frowned after him. "Is he all righ'?" Hagrid asked.

Harry shrugged. "He's moody. Don't worry. Is that going to be a Christmas tree?" Harry inquired.

Hagrid smiled, looking back at the tree. "Yeah, it is! If it'll fit in me hut that is. I'm gonna fix it right up for me and Fluffy's first Christmas! Although, 'spose Fluffy won't be able to see it. I'll still bring him a steak," Hagrid mused aloud.

Hermione tilted her head. "Who's Fluffy?" she inquired.

Hagrid smiled. "'E's a three-headed dog!" he said proudly.

Harry blinked and Hermione gasped. "Why does it have three heads?" Harry said.

"Is it a hellhound?" Hermione breathed, eyes wide with horror.

Hagrid frowned. "That's not a very nice name for 'em to be perfectly honest. They're real sweet on yah if yeh know how to calm 'em," he protested. "For example, Fluffy'll fall right asleep if yeh just play 'im some sweet music."

"Hagrid, those are very, very dangerous. Does Professor Dumbledore know you have Fluffy?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Hagrid shook his head. "Course he does! Even asked to borrow him this year, somethin' about a favor for his friend Nicholas Flamel – but oh, wasn't supposed ter tell anyone that," Hagrid said, frowning. "Don't you two be runnin' off telling everyone, all righ'? Not sure why he wanted Fluffy to be a secret but if that's what Dumbledore wants then I'm going to keep my promise and keep him a secret."

Harry nodded slowly in thought. "All right Hagrid. Would you like some help with your Christmas tree?" he asked, smiling.

Hermione was quiet, deep in thought as she began gathering up her things.

Hagrid shook his head. "Nice of yeh to ask Harry but I've got it! Come down and visit some time though! Gotta be goin' now, Dumbledore asked me to gather up some pixies from the forest. Be seein' yeh! Nice meeting yah Hermione!" he called, and began dragging his tree off toward his hut.

"Hagrid's gamekeeper," Harry explained as he began gathering up his own things.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "What do you think Professor Dumbledore wanted with a hellhound?" she asked curiously as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe just an excuse to keep Hagrid safe from it?"

Hermione nodded. "That's probably it. I hope they didn't hurt it."

Harry shook his head. "I can't see Professor Dumbledore letting that happen."

"Have you made any progress on finding Mrs. Norris?" Hermione inquired. "I still think it's awful what you did to her. You should confess."

Harry rolled his eyes as they began their walk up to the castle. "Are you joking? And get detention? No thank you. I'll find her. I just have to do it before Filch does," he said.

"We have a History of Magic quiz tomorrow, I'm worried," Hermione murmured, wringing her hands. "I'm not sure how you do it – do all the things you do, investigate Quirrel and still get good grades."

Harry laughed at her. "What are you talking about? You're top of the class. Don't worry Hermione, you'll do great!"

As they entered the castle, they parted ways. "I'll owl you if I find out anything else about you-know-what!" she called, running off toward the steps.

Harry smiled, waving in response and began his descent to the Slytherin common room.

* * *

"Draco!" Harry cried, bursting in the door and tossing his bag carelessly on to his bed.

Draco glared irritably. "What?"

Harry frowned. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

Draco huffed. "First Granger and now the gamekeeper?" he asked, as if the question he was asking made sense.

"What?" Harry said, sitting down on his bed and frowning. "What do you mean?"

Draco took a deep breath in and blew it out slowly, shaking his head. "Nothing," he said finally.

Harry frowned in thought, but his excitement about the new things he had discovered nagged in his head, and he decided he could ask more about Draco's grumpiness later.

"Hagrid has a hellhound that Professor Dumbledore is borrowing for the year."

Draco arched both eyebrows. "And?"

"Well, when Hagrid took me to Gringrotts, we had to stop for a bit after I got my stuff for Hagrid to pull something really small out of some vault. It was all wrapped up and it was the only thing inside. A couple weeks after that," Harry continued, gasping for breath but desperate to tell the entire story, "an empty vault was broken into in Gringrotts, it was all over the news, remember that? The vault had been emptied that same morning. The same morning Hagrid and I went. He said it was something for Dumbledore. And now he's saying Dumbledore asked to borrow his hellhound, and I just mean that maybe…"

Draco nodded slowly. "You think maybe they're hiding something, and the hellhound is protecting it?"

Harry shrugged. "It's possible."

Draco exhaled, nodding again, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Professor Snape has a bite."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

"A bite, on his leg. Looks like a dog bite but I wasn't sure, since the bite was so big. He got it on Halloween."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

Draco shook his head. "It didn't seem important at the time. Do you think… he got bit by Fluffy?"

Harry blinked. "If he did, that means Fluffy's somewhere in the castle. So whatever he's protecting is in the castle too."

Draco sat up. "Let's go ask him."

Harry shook his head. "He'll just think it's too dangerous and make sure we stop snooping around if we ask him now. Let's think over Christmas break. And let's do some research – do you know a man by the name of Nicholas Flamel?"

Draco sat up. "No, but I've heard it. We could ask my Dad, over break."

Harry beamed. "Hagrid said Dumbledore's using Fluffy to do a favor for Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas Flamel," Draco mumbled, laying back, closing his eyes in thought.

Harry yawned, peering at the clock. "Break starts next week," Harry said.

Draco 'mm'ed in response. "Mum's excited to meet you," he mumbled sleepily.

"Do you think they'll like me?" Harry worried.

Draco laughed. "They already do or you wouldn't be coming over. Go to sleep Harry, I'm tired."

Harry staggered over to his bed and clambered under the covers, screwing his eyes closed.

"We need to find Mrs. Norris tomorrow," Harry mumbled.

"Oh great, another thing to do. I heard Filch raving about how someone's stolen her by the way. He's not pleased, he's conducting a Mrs. Norris hunt."

"Early tomorrow," Harry decided.

With that, both boys fell into silence and Harry rolled over, letting sleep take him.

* * *

**Drop a review for me to let me know you guys are still out there? :)  
**


	8. Malfoy Manor

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Malfoy Manor**

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Hey guys, just thought I'd leave this really quick to address a recurring question:_

_Theodore Nott: He is not in this story. At least, not yet. I may add him in as a few years younger. Why? Because he's not going to be an important character - sorry to the Nott lovers! - and the way I have the dorms set up would cause him to be disruptive. Some of you noticed he was missing, some of you assumed it was an accident, some did not notice. All the same, it is intentional and he is, as of yet, not a part of the story. Sorry!_

_Now on with the story! (Sorry for the long wait, eep, don't hurt me!)_

* * *

"GET UP!"

Harry gasped, bolting upright, eyes wide with horror. Draco smacked him again with a pillow for emphasis and Harry fell back. Fumbling for his own pillow Harry sat upright, smacking Draco solidly in the face with it.

"Well that was rude," Draco said cheerfully, springing to his feet.

Harry fumbled to his feet.

"We leave today!" Draco cheered, happily taking Harry's things and throwing them in his trunk.

Harry's heart soared and he began helping Draco stuff things into his trunk. "When does the train leave?"

"After breakfast – what's this?" Draco inquired, holding a package he had found under Harry's bed very carefully.

Harry leaned over his shoulder and snatched it from him, staring at it curiously.

On top of the package was a note.

_This was leant to me by your father. It is time that it was returned to you. Use it well._

"I don't know," Harry murmured, eyes wide.

"Open it," Draco suggested. Harry pulled a bit of the wrapping of the corner away, and carefully unwrapped the object. Out fell a soft, thin cloak. It sparkled, reflecting hundreds of colors.

"It's… a cloak?" Harry said, holding it an arms' length away and looking at it curiously.

"Put it on Harry!" Draco cried, eyes wide with disbelief and delight. "It's not just any cloak."

Harry carefully wrapped the cloak – which was far, far too large – around himself and pulled up the hood.

Draco gasped. "No way," he breathed, reaching out a hand.

Harry frowned, and tried to look down at himself only to find that his body had disappeared.

"I'm invisible!" Harry yelped.

"This is amazing! That's amazing!" Draco said, mouth open in awe.

Harry pulled off the hood. "Who is it from?" Draco inquired, grabbing at the note Harry had left on his bed.

Harry shrugged, only to realize Draco couldn't see that. "I don't know," he said again.

Draco turned, staring at Harry's floating head. "It says it was your Dad's, but invisibility cloaks' magic wears off with time. This seems to be, well, in perfect condition. No holes or anything, Harry. It's beautiful."

Harry nodded slowly, spinning in a circle. No movement was detectable under the cloak. "Wow," he breathed.

"Nice early Christmas present," Draco added.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Think of all the-!"

A sharp, desperate meow cut through the silence.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked, turning toward Draco's wardrobe.

Another yowl of frustration rose from Draco's wardrobe.

"Oh right, I trapped invisible Mrs. Norris in there," Draco said off-handedly.

"You found her!" Harry cried in delight. He dove for the wardrobe, wand at the ready and sprung it open, casting the invisibility counter spell repeatedly into the wardrobe.

Mrs. Norris hissed with rage as one finally hit her and sprung from the wardrobe, running toward the exit to their dorm and scratching angrily at the wooden door.

"We've got to get her back to Filch's office," Harry said. "Come on." He threw the dragging end of the invisibility cloak over Draco's head and the blond disappeared on the spot.

"This is awesome!" Draco cried. "We're both invisible! Put your hood on!"

Harry obliged, and scooped up an irate Mrs. Norris.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Draco hissed, hitting the struggling cat with the hex just in time as she began to take a bite out of Harry's arm.

"Thanks," Harry said. The two sidled out of their dorm and through the common room silently.

There were some gasps of confusion as the common room door opened and closed whilst nobody went in or out, but Harry and Draco wandered off underneath the cloak before they could hear what sort of guesses the other students were conjuring up.

The two pushed through the halls, bumping intentionally into a few other first years who ran off squealing. Finally they approached Filch's office and, checking to make sure the coast was clear, flung open the door and tossed Mrs. Norris out from under the cloak.

"Finite Incantanem," Harry mumbled, pointing his wand at her still body. Just as she sprung back to life Filch came barging through the doors, nostrils flaring.

"Mrs. Norris!" he yelled, scooping her up and nearly running into the Slytherin duo who managed to dodge his rushing form just in time.

"Oh Mrs. Norris tell me where you've been!" he cried. Harry and Draco began carefully tip-toeing out of the office just as Mrs. Norris began to yowl.

"Yes, lead me to the brats who took you Mrs. Norris. I'll make them pay!"

Harry and Draco took off simultaneously, managing to both stay underneath the cloak.

"Oh Merlin we're screwed," Draco gasped as Mrs. Norris went running down the hall after them.

Harry gasped, spinning around a tight turn at the end of the hall. "Just run," Harry gasped out under his breath.

"I'll string them up by their ears!" Filch yelled as he followed his cat, which was in hot pursuit of the cloaked boys.

Harry and Draco went up a flight of stairs, taking advantage of the fact that as soon as Mrs. Norris boarded the steps they began to change, and took off down another corridor.

"Hide, let's hide!" Draco suggested, stopping by a door and pulling on its handle. He hissed in frustration, "Alohomora!" he gasped, pointing his wand at the lock. It sprung open, and the boys leapt inside, slamming the door behind them and locking it securely.

Harry pulled the cloak off them both, gasping for breath.

Draco began laughing and leaned over, pulling in short, excited breaths.

"That was ridiculous, I should have left that stupid cat invisible," Harry gasped.

Draco laughed in agreement, slowly standing upright and looking around. "Where are we, anyway?" he mused.

Harry looked about. All the lights in the corridor were out, cobwebs formed on old gargoyles. The entire hall was deserted and seemed to be devoid of all forms of magic and life. All of the paintings were empty canvases along the walls.

"Some third floor corridor?" Harry mused.

Draco paled. "It wouldn't happen to be the third floor corridor no one should visit unless they want to die a most painful death, would it-?"

"Are they in here, my sweet?" Filch's nasally voice hissed from outside the door. "Trying to hide, are they?"

Harry gulped, gathering up the cloak and throwing it overtop both of them and taking off down the dark corridor. They reached another locked door. "Alohomora!" Draco whispered. In they ran, slamming the door behind them and locking it tight.

Harry's blood ran cold.

"Draco," Harry breathed, backing up against the wall, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

"That was close!" Draco cried, turning to look at what had captured Harry's attention.

Sleeping quietly, and sitting atop a large, wooden trapdoor, was the hellhound most likely known as Fluffy.

"Oh Merlin," Draco choked, leaning back against the door, trembling in fear.

Harry laid flat against the wall, barely breathing as they watched the great beast give a loud yawn and slowly raise its heads, blinking all six eyes.

Harry took a daring step forward, and retrieved the dropped cloak, draping it over both of them.

The hellhound shook its heads, each one looking in different directions as if it were sure it'd seen something. It let out a low, threatening snarl from the middle head, the one on the left snapped at the air dangerously close to Harry.

Draco barely contained a yelp as the dog sniffed and finally stood, walking toward where they stood hidden just beneath the thin cloak.

Harry leaned very close to Draco's ear as the dog turned about, sniffing the contents of the room curiously.

"I'm going to unlock the door and we are going to run," Harry whispered into his ear as quietly as he could. Fluffy perked his ears, spinning in place.

Draco didn't even have time to agree. "Alohomora!" Harry screamed at the door, and ripped it nearly off its hinges with the force of his pull. The boys darted out as the dog gave a ferocious roar and lunged. They slammed the door into one of its noses which caused it to stumble back, whining. They quickly latched and locked the door, gasping for breath and shivering.

Then, they took off, racing down the corridor and unlocked the door they'd first entered.

Filch was nowhere in sight, but frankly they wouldn't have cared if he had been waiting for them, sharpening knives.

The boys ran back down into the common room, invisible as ever, and thumped up to the boys' dormitory, eliciting yelps of horror from fellow students as they were shoved aside by something invisible.

When they reached the room Harry ripped the cloak off and Draco slowly slid to the ground, shuddering.

They spent a moment of collected silence, gasping for breath.

"Do you play any instruments?" Harry finally asked breathlessly as Draco stood up, his legs quivering.

"I'm sorry, but why are you bringing this up right now?" Draco whispered, eyes wide with terror. "We just nearly died."

"It's, it's Fluffy," Harry explained.

"Oh I can see that, he sure was fluffy, fitting name, I can see where Hagrid came up with it," Draco snapped sarcastically.

"Fluffy falls asleep if you play him music," Harry explained.

Draco laughed harshly. "You're taking advice from the man who named a hellhound Fluffy? Really Harry? REALLY?"

Harry shrugged. "How else would he have gotten it up in that corridor, do you think? It's clearly people aggressive."

"I don't know!" Draco yelled. "Maybe Hagrid raised it!"

"No, he only got him a few months ago. There has to be some truth to it," Harry insisted.

Draco stared at him blankly. "Are you – you're suggesting, that we, as in you and I, go back there?"

Harry nodded, face lighting with excitement. "Don't you see Draco? He was standing on a trapdoor! It probably leads to whatever Dumbledore's hiding for Nicholas Flamel!"

Draco stared at him.

"You're insane," the grey-eyed boy finally said after a long stretch of silence.

Harry's smile slipped. "You're saying you don't want to know?"

Draco huffed angrily. "No, it's just, it's just Harry – Harry be rational. That is a monster. It nearly ate us. And you want to go back and play it some soft music in the hopes that it miraculously falls asleep instead of eats us, so we can sneak into a trapdoor to find out something for… for what? Curiosity's sake?"

Harry shook his head. "It's important, I can feel it Draco. I feel like it's connected to Quirrel somehow."

"You think whatever is hidden beneath the hellhound is somehow related to Quirrel letting loose a troll and trying to kill you?"

Harry nodded. "It's… It's just, the troll wasn't anywhere near me. If it was going to kill anyone, it was going to kill Hermione. If that was an assassination attempt, it was a pretty poor one. And I think Professor Quirrel could do better than that. And you said that Professor Snape got bit the day the troll came in, right? So maybe… Maybe he went to check and make sure no one had been to sneak by Fluffy, because _he_ doesn't trust Professor Quirrel either!"

"So why try to throw you off your broom?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Just because he wants whatever Fluffy's guarding doesn't mean he _isn't_ a former Voldemort supporter. Maybe he was after that and then he saw an opportunity to get rid of me and figured why not?"

"Maybe whatever the hellhound's guarding is important to V-" Draco took a deep breath, "to Voldemort?"

"Yeah, maybe!" Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"It's a long-shot, Harry," Draco said doubtfully. Harry finished packing by stuffing his robe into the top of his trunk and clicking it shut.

"Look, let's just look up who Nicholas Flamel is, and then we come back and we talk to Professor Snape about our suspicions before we do anything. All right?"

Draco nodded. "All right."

The boys were quiet, Draco deep in thought as they began lugging their trunks down toward the common room and up the steps toward the exit, where Perfidis and Hedwig were waiting for them.

* * *

"What's your house like?" Harry asked curiously as the two sat in the line to leave the castle. Harry rested casually on his trunk, swinging his legs.

Draco jumped, as if startled from a deep train of thought. "My house?" he said. "Malfoy Manor, it's uh-"

"A manor? That sounds fancy," Harry said, eyes wide. "I've never been to a manor," he said.

Draco smiled. "Well it's… it's big, and there's a Quidditch pitch out back, and there's lots of land. You'd love the gardens, they're Mum's favorite part. And there's a great gate and a forcefield that surrounds the place, so no one can really just pop in uninvited. And…"

Harry blinked, eyes wide. "Your family must be really rich," he said bluntly. He then flushed, as if realizing what he'd said, and opened his mouth to apologize just as Draco started to laugh.

"Well, so is yours," he pointed out, rolling his eyes. "There was the Potter estate, but I'm not sure if that got destroyed or not. Still there's the land where it stood, which I'm sure you own. The Potters were one of the oldest pureblood families in history. They were about as close to royalty as it got, next to the other great families like the Blacks, Lestranges, Peverells and the Malfoys. You've probably been to your vault, right?"

Harry nodded, blinking as if in thought. "There was a whole mountain of gold coins," he mumbled. "I'd never seen so much money in my entire life."

Draco nodded. "That'd be your vault, though. Your 'share' of the Potter wealth. When you turn seventeen you inherit the entire Potter vault, which is more than galleons. It'll have heirlooms and everything. And certainly at least ten times the money. I have a vault too, but it's nothing on the Malfoy vault."

Harry leaned back heavily on his trunk, staring off into space.

"I've never been rich before," Harry said in wonder.

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous," he informed Harry.

"Malfoy, Potter, are you planning on boarding the train, or shall I just cross off both your names?" Professor Grubbly-Plank quipped from where she stood, clipboard in hand. Harry leapt to his feet, gathering up his trunk and dragging it toward her. Draco followed suit, having cast a featherweight charm on his trunk that had only partially worked earlier, he seemed to struggle less with the heavy luggage.

She smiled warmly at them both, wished them a happy Christmas and sent them off. The whistle on the grand red train blew through the icy air as the boys loaded their things.

* * *

"Mum!" Draco shouted in greeting when he hopped of the train. He waved eagerly, smiling.

Harry very slowly pulled out his trunk after the excited boy, eyes flicking anxiously from left to right.

"Maybe I should have just stayed at Hogwarts," Harry mumbled nervously as he sidled up next to Draco.

Draco spun to face him, shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous Harry, let's go!" he cheered, beaming widely at the green-eyed Slytherin.

Harry nervously followed Draco's line of vision as the blond waved again, and his eyes alighted upon a tall, thin, pale and elegant woman with hair almost entirely the same shade as Draco's. She had pale blue eyes and a thin, soft smile. She seemed to have a mask of indifference to the world, but her eyes were warm as they focused on Draco.

"That's my Mum," Draco informed, lugging his trunk in her direction. Harry quietly pulled his own along, his heart pounding and heat rushing to his cheeks as they approached. His heart jumped in his throat and he coughed nervously.

"Draco," his mother greeted, her tone warm. Harry stood behind Draco timidly, staring at the floor, his cheeks hot.

"And… Harry?" she inquired, smiling down at him.

Harry shifted nervously. "Yes, um, Harry Potter. Nice to meet you Mrs. Malfoy," he said softly, looking up at her for just an instant before darting his gaze back to the ground.

Draco dashed over to a series of fireplaces, grinning. "Come on then! Let's go!" he cried. Narcissa and Harry walked toward the fireplaces.

"Have you ever used floo before, Harry?" Narcissa asked in a kind tone.

Harry shook his head shyly.

"Right then, it's really easy," Draco butted in, shoving some powder into Harry's palm. "I'll go first, but all you do is you step in and you say where you want to go – so in this case you say 'Malfoy Manor' – and then you toss down the powder and it takes you there. All right?"

"Make sure you enunciate every letter, Harry. It's not too difficult, don't worry," Narcissa added.

Draco took his own powder. "Malfoy Manor!" he said loudly, and tossed down the floo powder. His form was quickly consumed by green flames, and by the time they flickered out, Draco was gone.

Harry parted his lips, slack jawed, before stepping quietly into the fire and taking a deep breath.

"Malfoy Manor!"

* * *

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and into a grand sitting room. The walls were bright and the floor was a dark, red wood. Elegant pieces of white leather furniture and glass tables were set about.

Draco beamed as he pulled his trunk and Hedwig's cage from the fire and surveyed the area with wide eyes. Narcissa stepped out a few seconds after, brushing her robes smooth.

"Master Draco, Mistress Narcissa, welcome home!" several tiny voices squealed.

Harry jumped in shock. Six tiny elves stood in a row in ragged excuses for clothes, bowing low to the ground. They were not the prettiest things – they had eyes the size of softballs and ears as big as bat wings - they flapped when they moved. They were all varying shades of greyish-green. Some were young and some were old but all had a similar high-pitched, nervous tone of voice.

Narcissa waved her hand dismissively and the elves disappeared with a loud _crack!_

"What were those?" Harry breathed curiously.

Draco shrugged. "House-elves. Come on, let me show you my room!" he said. "Leave your things, Pipsy or Pinny will get them and put Hedwig and Perfidis in the owlery."

A few of the house elves reappeared in the sitting room a few seconds later, and seemed to be contently decorating a grand, blue-green Christmas tree. They set baubles and strung lights in quiet cheerfulness.

Harry nodded slowly, turning just to offer Mrs. Malfoy a small, shy smile. "Thank you, for letting me stay with you, Mrs. Malfoy," he murmured, keenly observing his shoes.

She smiled. "It's wonderful to have friends of Draco's over. You're welcome any time. Draco – make sure you're washed up in two hours. Your father will be home and we'll be having dinner. All right?"

Draco nodded. "Yes Mum," he chirped happily. "Harry, let's _go!_" Draco said once more with impatience. That being said, the blond raced up the grand staircase. Harry walked slowly, eyes wide with awe as he drew in the entirety of the house.

Everything seemed to be themed white. And with that, came the appearance that everything was painfully clean. It looked like if you breathed one too many times you might make the place dirty.

It was elegant in a fragile way. Harry worried that he might break something, so he stepped very carefully up the steps, avoiding every painting or display case.

"Don't worry so much, I break things all the time and we just reparo them," Draco said, as if he knew why Harry was walking so painfully slow.

"Your house is beautiful!" Harry said breathlessly, eyes still wide.

Draco beamed. "Thanks!" he said. He pushed open the first door on the left at the top of the steps. "This is my room, come on," he said.

Harry followed in cheerfully. It was themed much like the rest of the house, but in some ways, you could tell a young boy lived there. For example, in a large glass case on the wall was an immense collection of chocolate frog cards.

"That's a brilliant collection!" Harry cried, running over in awe. "You really need Ptolemy," Harry declared.

Draco groaned. "Tell me about it. I've been looking for _ages_. I bet Mum or Dad will take us to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade sometime later and we can get some chocolate frog cards – do you want me to ask at dinner?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "That'd be brilliant!" he breathed.

"Want me to show you where you'll be staying?" Draco asked, heading out the door. Harry darted after him, nodding, and Draco led him to the room just next door.

It was like Draco's without the personal touches. Harry's trunk was pushed up against the edge of the bed. Harry smiled, absolute glee filling up inside him.

"Can Hedwig stay in my room?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "Yeah of course. Perfidis stays in mine some nights too," he said. "Pipsy!"

One of the house-elves from earlier appeared in the room with a noisy crack, bowing to Draco. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Pipsy, fetch Hedwig from the owlery," he said.

"Right away, Master Draco," Pipsy chirped, and disappeared with another crack.

"What are house-elves exactly?" Harry asked curiously, sitting on his new bed hesitantly.

Draco tilted his head. "Elves, bound to houses. They sort of love to serve wizards – that sounds bad, but it's honestly true. Asking a house elf to stop working for a wizard usually results in them sobbing manically. They're tied to expensive houses and basically serve whatever family owns the house until they die. There's been some messy problems with when grand estates are sold out of the family and the elves only refer to members of the previous family as their masters, but since that generally doesn't happen, they're still called house elves."

Harry nodded slowly, and Pipsy reappeared with another crack, carefully placing Hedwig's cage on the windowsill before disappearing once again.

"They do all the cleaning and cooking and things like that," Draco said. "Except for a few things, like the dishes, which are enchanted to do themselves. They fix anything broken and keep the house in nice shape, and they're good at fetching things."

"That's really, really cool," Harry blurted out, eyes wide with awe. He walked over to the windowsill, gently petting Hedwig's soft white feathers. Snowflakes twisted and twirled in the wind outside, falling gently down to the grounds below and giving the grass a thin white blanket.

"This is just unbelievable," Harry mumbled, letting his eyes drift closed.

"What's unbelievable?" Draco asked curiously.

"Just, all of this," Harry said, opening his eyes again. "Just a few months ago I – I was on Privet Drive with the Dursleys and I thought I'd be there until I was an adult but now… Now I'm here, I'm a wizard, and I'm in Hogwarts, and you're my friend. And I'm spending the Christmas season with my friend, in his house where everything is magic."

Draco looked at him curiously, and exhaled in a frustrated manner. "And that's… a good thing, right?" he hedged.

Harry spun to face him, eyes wide in shock. "Of course!"

"Oh good, just making sure," Draco said in relief.

"It's just so much to take in," Harry finished, gently unhooking Hedwig's cage and giving her free rein to their new room.

Draco flopped down in a chair, exhaling slowly. "You know what a lot to take in is for me?"

Harry looked at him curiously.

"That I've fought a mountain troll and run away from a hellhound in the past two months and lived to tell about it. The hardest thing for you to accept is that you're spending Christmas with a friend. Do you see the problem I have with this scenario?" Draco teased, smirking.

Harry flushed, and flopped back on his bed, laughing. "Well, clearly you need to get your priorities straight," Harry said in a very serious tone.

Draco snickered. "Oh clearly. But I'm forgetting, you're Harry Potter, death-defying situations are the norm."

Harry shook his head, containing a laugh in his chest. "I really hope that doesn't end up being the case for the rest of my life."

Draco laughed. "I'm sure it won't."

* * *

The boys spent the next hour meandering through the halls of the manor. Harry met a strange little house elf named Dobby who seemed to be his biggest fan yet. He fell over himself to do anything Harry wanted. Draco jokingly told him not to go stealing their house elf.

Harry fell in love with their Quidditch pitch on first sight.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Harry breathed, eyes wide with adoration.

Draco beamed as something occurred to him. "I say when you, me and my Dad go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, we stop off at Gringotts and you are being _forced_ to buy a broom, do you understand?"

Harry laughed, a cold wind blowing some snowflakes on to his glasses and smudging them up. "All right, all right. Only because you're forcing me. I mean obviously, I'd never buy a broom because I want one, or anything like that."

"Obviously."

Draco prodded Harry in the arm suddenly. "Wanna see something cool that I found?" he asked, eyes wide with boyish excitement.

Harry nodded. "What is it?"

Draco began dashing across the pitch on foot, toward one of the hoops. Harry followed suit.

"I found this three years ago. Dad says it's called a hibernaculum. They go here every winter."

He pulled back one of the heavy, weighted tarps that surrounded the bottom of the hoop's support structure and Harry peered over his shoulder.

Curled up in tiny balls were at least twenty snakes, sleeping. There were two or three different kinds, hidden beneath the thick tarp to protect from the icy winds.

"Wow," Harry breathed. "That's amazing."

Draco nodded. "I tried taking one in last winter, to keep it warm in my bedroom, but Dad says some of them are poisonous so I wasn't allowed."

Harry leaned down next to the sleeping snakes. Their eyes looked distinctly open, giving the appearance of being wide awake.

Very suddenly, the one Harry was closest to raised its head and, in a very conscious manner, looked right at him.

"Hi there," Harry said very quietly, beginning to scoot back, hoping he hadn't angered the resting snake and having a horrifying image of all of the snakes waking up and lunging at them.

The snake tilted its head as if confused. "Hello," it responded very simply.

Harry smiled, but just then Draco dropped the tarp, eyes wide as saucers.

"_You're a parselmouth!_" he yelled, eyes wide with admiration and delight.

"What?" Harry asked, eyes round with bewilderment as his friend practically pounced on him with delight.

"You can speak parseltongue! You can talk to snakes!" Draco shouted again, a grin nearly splitting his face.

Harry nodded slowly, taking a hesitant step away from the overwhelmingly excited boy. "O-Okay… is that… is that not normal?" he whispered.

Draco shook his head and then stopped, nodding rapidly. "Yes, I mean no. No it's really rare. But I mean it's brilliant! It's brilliant Harry! Salazar Slytherin – the founder of Slytherin house – was the first parselmouth! They called him Serpent Tongue. Only his ancestors have ever been known to have inherited the trait. It's not been passed down in hundreds of years. The Blacks and Lestranges and Yaxleys and even us, the Malfoys, have been hoping to get one for so long! You must have gotten it from your father's side," Draco babbled.

"My father's side?" Harry inquired.

Draco nodded. "Your grandmother was Dorea Black. She was my Mom's aunt," Draco explained. "Or great aunt, or something like that."

Harry tilted his head. "We're related?"

Draco shook his head. "Yes but who cares – I mean that's great Harry but, but you're a _parselmouth!_ Have you ever spoken to any others? How long have you been one?" he pestered, in awe.

Harry paused, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "I've, I mean, I spoke to a snake once in a zoo. But it was through glass. I knew he understood me because he nodded and things like that but I couldn't hear him through the glass. Then the glass, well it sort of disappeared. He hopped out and told me thanks and he snapped at Dudley's friend's legs because they had been shoving me a few minutes before. I thought it was normal though, that everyone performed accidental magic."

Draco nodded. "That's different though Harry. That's special. This is amazing, I'd give anything to be a parseltongue. So, do you not know when you're speaking it?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? I just talk like normal. The snakes do too," he said.

Draco shook his head. "You make a sort of hissing sound. I guess you don't hear yourself doing it? The snakes just respond in hisses, too. I didn't understand anything you said. What did you say, anyway?"

Harry flushed. "Um, I just said hello."

Draco nodded enthusiastically. "And what did he say?"

"He said hello back," Harry replied, shifting nervously.

Draco laughed with delight. "Oh this is brilliant, this is brilliant Harry."

Just then Dobby appeared next to them with a noisy crack. "Mistress Narcissa wishes Dobby to inform Master Draco that it is time to come in and wash up for dinner, sir," he squeaked.

"Yes, yes, go away Dobby," Draco shooed him, not even stopping to look at him.

Dobby obediently left with another _crack!_

"Maybe you could teach me," Draco said, eyes wide as saucers.

Harry tilted his head slowly. "I'm not really sure how, since I didn't even know I spoke it but… yeah, why not? We should try!"

Draco nodded enthusiastically and turned back towards the manor in the distance. "Well we should head in now. Dad's going to be home soon. I'll ask him about Diagon Alley and maybe tonight we can root through the library to find stuff about parselmouths."

"And Nicholas Flamel," Harry added. The boys began their trek back to the house, keeping stride with each other.

Draco nodded. "We can always sleep tomorrow."

* * *

**Hehe, probably the chapter I was most excited to get out yet... **

**Leave a review if you enjoyed!**


	9. Diagon Alley

**CHAPTER NINE: Diagon Alley**

* * *

Harry pulled his scarf up to cover his lips as the boys walked back toward the manor. Snow had begun to lay out a fresh new blanket of white around the manor and snowflakes fell into his black hair. He shivered, walking more briskly toward the house.

"You need warmer robes," Draco noted. "We should stop by Twilfitt and Tatting's or Madam Malkins again when we go to Diagon Alley."

Harry looked over at him curiously. After living with the Dursleys so long, he was confused by the idea of him ever getting anything new, let alone needing anything. The only things he got were broken, used or unwanted by Dudley. And even then, they seemed to simply fall into his hands – they were never really given to him. Rather than being thrown in the trash things found their way into Harry's small pile of belongings.

"I'd like a thicker scarf," Harry finally said. The cool, sharp wind pushed through the thin material easily. His ears began to sting as they approached the opening to the manor.

Draco nodded, and pushed open the door, allowing Harry to dart inside to the warm house first.

"Draco," an unfamiliar, male voice said from the sitting room. Out of the archway walked a tall, pale man with long blond hair.

Draco perked up, smiling as he shut the door behind himself. "Hello Father," he said pleasantly. The young Malfoy turned to Harry, who had gone rather wide-eyed and was leaning toward the staircase, eyeing the top of the steps nervously as if he wanted to leave rather quickly. "Dad, this is Harry," Draco said.

Lucius smiled fleetingly. "Lucius Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you, Harry," he said smoothly.

Harry looked up at him and offered a nervous grin. "You too, Mr. Malfoy," he said quietly.

Draco bounced in place as something occurred to him. "Dad, Harry's a _parselmouth_!" Draco blurted out suddenly, eyes wide with delight.

Lucius Malfoy's eyebrows raised and he widened his eyes as he digested the information. "Is that so?" he finally said, pinning Harry with a long, curious look.

Harry nodded slowly.

"How long have you been one?" Lucius inquired, his masked, grey gaze intimidating Harry. The boy shifted nervously under the scrutiny.

"I guess a long time," he said slowly. "I spoke to one a couple of years ago, I didn't realize it was a big deal."

"He said he'd teach me if he could!" Draco cut in, grinning widely.

Lucius paused to consider this. "Could you do that?" he finally asked with curiosity. Harry looked up at him shyly.

"I don't know. But I mean, I could try," Harry replied.

Draco nodded wildly and just then Mrs. Malfoy walked into the room, smiling softly at her husband who shot her a typical look that said, to Draco, 'we need to have an adult talk that Draco isn't allowed to hear so let's make an excuse and send him to his room'.

"Draco," Narcissa spoke up predictably, "why don't you and Harry run off and wash up for dinner? I'll send one of the house elves to fetch you when it's time."

Draco nodded and began hopping up the steps, Harry close at his heels.

Harry was quiet as the two marched toward their bedroom and Draco looked over at him. "Is something wrong?" he asked the green-eyed boy, some concern tempering his excited tone.

Harry shook his head. "Just not used to the attention, that's all," Harry said awkwardly.

Draco stared at him in puzzlement. "But you're famous," he said. "You have been since you were a baby."

"Raised by muggles, remember? And they certainly didn't think I was famous," Harry pointed out.

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "They like you, you know. Dad's not as good at showing that as Mum, but they honestly do," he said, trying his hand at comfort.

Harry nodded and Draco gave up, stopping outside his bedroom. "There's a door opening to a private washroom in the back of your room. I'm not going to wash up though. I'm going to head off to the library. Do you want to come?"

Harry paused thoughtfully. "Yeah okay," he said agreeably. And the duo headed off down the hall and up a winding staircase.

As they entered a grand, wide room with a high, tower ceiling, Harry inhaled sharply. It was beautiful. Rows and rows of nearly unending black bookcases. The room was lit by candles hung on chandeliers and large windows all around which gave striking views of the rolling hills, woods and gardens surrounding the manor, letting in natural light.

Draco smiled. "It's my favorite room," he intoned quietly.

Harry nodded in thought and Draco gently prodded his shoulder, gesturing toward the far, back right of the library. "I think I read about Nicholas Flamel in some of the history books. He was someone important, very important. Come on. We've got a lot of books to go through. Let's pick as many out as we can that might be relevant and take them back to our room. Dad doesn't like me being in here too often."

* * *

Harry and Draco spent the next 30 minutes or so warming up by a fire in Draco's room and pouring over the glossaries of the books, looking for Nicholas Flamel's name.

"Can you imagine how long it'd take if we just went through the entire book looking for one name?" Draco said.

Harry laughed. "I'm quite sure we'd die of old age before we ever found anything," he said.

The boys had made two piles. The "nope" pile and the "haven't looked" pile. The "nope" pile was on the right and the "haven't looked" pile was on the left. One after another they sorted through each piece of text, putting book after book in the ever-growing "nope" pile.

Some, unfortunately, were too old to have glossaries, and the boys put these books in a lump far away from the rest silently labeled the "only if we get desperate" lump.

A house elf quietly knocked on the open door, peering into the room. "Master Draco?" the unknown elf said squeakily. "Mistress Narcissa and Master Malfoy are waiting for you and Mr. Potter at the dinner table," she said.

Draco stood up, nodding. "All right, thanks Poppy."

Poppy nodded, bobbing her head and shuffling off. The house elves had moved on from the sitting room, finished the first floor and were decorating the halls outside of Draco's room now.

Harry watched in awe as they donned the house with magical, unwinding mistletoe and the like and continued to set up a smaller Christmas tree in a nearby study.

Draco headed off down the stairs, summoning Harry to come with him. Harry bounced down the steps after him, smiling.

Draco looked over at him before returning the smile as the two rounded the corner at the bottom of the steps and made for the kitchen.

* * *

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, taking a bite of pasta as the Malfoy family engaged in a quiet conversation.

"Dad, would you take me and Harry to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Draco suddenly said as his parents paused in their conversation.

Lucius looked up, considering the question. "I suppose I don't have any work tomorrow that can't wait," he said finally. "All right. We'll go early tomorrow Draco. Be up and be ready. I have to stop by Gringotts."

Draco nodded happily, smiling. Harry returned the smile.

"What's your favorite class this year, Draco?" Narcissa inquired after a beat of silence.

Draco paused as if deep in thought. "Potions," he finally said. "Harry's is Charms though. Astronomy is dreadful. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a blathering idiot," Draco said.

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Who's teaching that this year?" Lucius asked.

"Professor Quirrel," both boys replied. Draco nibbled on some garlic bread.

Lucius nodded. "We were in school together," he said. "Quiet Ravenclaw. Could imagine he'd be a frustrating sort of teacher."

"Father," Draco suddenly said, setting down his fork as something occurred to him. "Who is Nicholas Flamel?"

Lucius arched one eyebrow.

"It's for our History of Magic class," Draco added in smoothly, not even batting an eye.

"The creator and owner of the Philosopher's Stone," Narcissa said. Lucius nodded in agreement.

Draco's eyes widened and Harry paused as if deep in thought. He clearly realized that this was a significant object, but lacked an understanding of exactly what it was.

As they noticed Lucius staring at them in a slow, calculative way, he and Draco wiped their expressions down to clean, innocent interest.

"Interesting thing to be learning about so early in the year," Lucius said, suspicion but no accusation in his tone.

Draco shrugged. "Don't think Professor Binns knows what year any of his students are in anymore, the old ghost."

Harry nodded in agreement. Truthfully, he didn't know what Professor Binns had taught them so far at all. The entire classroom seemed enchanted to make everyone fall under a deep spell of lethargy, most if not all students falling asleep at least for a few moments throughout the lesson. Harry and Draco had fallen into a habit of taking turns taking naps. Draco would take notes for twenty minutes while Harry napped, and then rouse Harry would take the other twenty minutes of notes. Later that evening they shared notes, making sure they kept track of important dates.

Narcissa launched into a pleasant conversation about buying new Christmas decorations and Draco spouted off a verbal wishlist as he remembered how close Christmas was drawing.

After Draco had finished his long-winded listing, he sighed, sitting back, content with himself.

"What do you want, Harry?" Narcissa asked kindly as the green-eyed boy fiddled with the massive amount of spoons set next to his plate. Harry looked up sharply, disbelief flitting across his features.

"Oh, er," Harry said. "I don't know."

Draco stared at him before shaking his head. "He wants a new scarf and an advanced charms book and he loves Bertie Botts Flavored beans. He also needs new robes. And a broom of his own, Mom. A nice one. Did I tell you about our first Quidditch match? I mean you should have seen him. Granted he nearly ate the snitch but I mean that's all right. Oh! A snitch, yeah, get him a pack of Snitches Mum. So he can practice. You know, the one's that go up in difficulty-"

"-Honestly I don't need anything," Harry cut in, red-faced as Draco demanded thing after thing from his mother for Harry.

"Yes you do," Draco said matter-of-factly. "I also think he could use a hat, or some earmuffs. He likes pumpkin pasties. And maybe some new quills, ones that correct his handwriting, his is awful you know-"

"-Draco, be polite," Narcissa reprimanded from across the table, a small smile tugging at the masked expression on her face. Her eyes were warm though as she observed her son and his flustered friend. "Harry, if you're going to be staying with us, it simply wouldn't be right if we didn't get you something," she added kindly, offering the boy a smile.

Harry shook his head. "You really don't have to-"

"We want to," Narcissa insisted. Just then, an owl flew in through an owl-door just above the front door and dropped a letter into Mr. Malfoy's lap, not even stopping to perch before flying away, in quite a hurry.

Lucius curiously picked up the letter and stood, excusing himself from the table with a thin smile and heading off to his study.

Harry looked down at his unfinished pasta, cheeks red as he straightened up one of his spoons.

"He has the oddest aversion to having nice things, or money, or anyone being kind to him," Draco complained.

Harry shot him a glare and Narcissa frowned. "Draco," she warned, her tone disapproving. He seemed unabashed by his mother's scolding tone and shrugged, suddenly standing from his meal and pushing his plate away.

"Harry and I are going back upstairs now," Draco said, offering his Mom a dimpled smile.

She shook her head at him, still disappointed, before nodding, and allowing the two to run off as she too stood from the table.

Harry marched after Draco irritably, cheeks still red. "What was that all about?" Harry complained.

"Oh come on, you know I was only joking about your handwriting," Draco complained, heading up the staircase.

Harry followed after him, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant the whole – the whole… insisting on buying me things. I don't, I don't need your parents to-"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Harry, I know it may come as a shock, but we are _not_ poor. You're staying with us for Christmas, it would actually be very _rude_ if we didn't get you anything. Mother would have gotten you something anyway. I just suggested some things that you might need so you didn't wind up with a new pair of mittens."

Harry sighed. "That's not the point, I, I just-"

"-Please do get over your aversion of people acting kindly toward you Harry, it's really exhausting," Draco groaned as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. He flopped on to the floor next to their piles of books and reached under his bed to retrieve something. "Close the door please?" Draco intoned.

Harry reluctantly shut the door behind him and flopped down on to the ground. Draco triumphantly pulled out a bag of candies and tossed Harry a bar of Honeydukes chocolate, smiling.

Harry looked at it in awe. "Where'd you get this?"

"Honeydukes, duh," Draco replied, scooting into his sitting position with a grin.

"Where's that?" Harry inquired.

"Hogsmeade!" Draco chirped. "Harry, stay focused," Draco said, excitement sparkling in his grey eyes.

Harry looked up as he peeled back the gold foil off the chocolate, pulling off a chunk and popping it into his mouth. "Focused on what?" he asked after he swallowed.

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Draco said, rolling his eyes at him. "Honestly. More intent on derailing my Mother's plans to buy you things than figuring out why Quirrel's a crazy psychopath murderer. Get your priorities straight, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes in a mocking gesture, sitting back. "Well sorry," he said sarcastically. "Okay, tell me about this Philosopher's Stone," he added more eagerly, leaning forward again.

"It's a magical stone that was made a couple hundred years ago-"

"-by Nicholas Flamel, yeah-"

"-yeah. It can turn any metal into gold and it can create a potion known as the Elixir of Life… which grants the drinker, err, eternal life," Draco said.

Both boys sat in silence as a single conclusion reached into their minds.

"You don't think?" Draco breathed, eyes wide.

Harry shook his head, slowly, letting out a deep breath. "I do," he said. "It's just too coincidental, Draco."

"Harry," Draco said warningly. "We need to tell Professor Snape about this when we get back to school. It's not – he's not – we can't deal with this on our own," Draco said very seriously.

Harry nodded. "You're probably right. I just hope we're not too late. Professor Quirrel has all Christmas break, to-"

"Do you think he broke into Gringotts that day?" Draco blurted out.

Harry nodded slowly as something dawned on him. "You know… I saw him. That day. In the Leaky Cauldron. I think he did."

Draco leaned back. "Harry, if he broke into Gringotts-"

"-I know Draco. I know. It's the safest place in England. Except Hogwarts."

"No one had ever broken into Gringotts before Harry. Who's to say he won't be the first to break through Hogwarts defenses, either?"

Harry shook his head. "We just have to hope that Professor Snape is keeping an eye on him," Harry said.

Draco nodded, biting his lip. "What do you know about the last wizarding war, anyway, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Not a lot."

Draco nodded slowly. "It was bad," he said simply.

"I've heard," Harry said morosely.

Draco took a deep breath and stood, heading out the door. Harry followed. "Where are you going?" Harry said sharply.

"Library. Need to look some things up," Draco said distractedly.

The obsessive boys traveled in consumed silence to the library and spent the rest of the night pouring over books, barely speaking. Harry read as much as he could find on the wizarding war, seeing his own name and his parents' more than once.

Draco found something wonderfully pleasant about Harry's silent focus that night. Draco had always gotten frustrated with other kids his age, who tended to easily flip from one object of interest to another. He had actually never met another wizard his age who could spend more than an hour reading without a word.

Plenty of the time when he had friends over to play he ended up leaving them to their own devices, so he could read up on things like snake hibernation and behavior, or practicing potions in Dad's potion lab without Mum knowing.

Harry drifted off at about two in the morning and Draco peered over at him sleepily, turning another page in his book.

He sighed, shutting the book. He snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared before him very suddenly, having walked into the quiet room. "Dobby, return all the books from my room and the ones laid out here to their proper place," he said shortly. The house elf nodded.

"Yes Master Draco." He disappeared with a noisy crack which startled Harry awake. The black-haired boy rubbed at his eyes sleepily, looking about.

"You fell asleep," Draco informed him.

"Diagon Alley tomorrow," Harry mumbled sleepily.

"Excited?" Draco inquired as the two stood, Harry staggering slightly.

Harry nodded sleepily. "Yeah. Never been on a shopping trip before."

Draco arched an eyebrow as they began exiting the library. "Never with the muggles?"

Harry shook his head. "They didn't take me anywhere," he mumbled sulkily, his brain still sleep-addled.

Draco frowned. "Why not?"

"They hated me," Harry said bluntly as they began walking down the long corridor. He let out a yawn.

Draco blinked in surprise, opening and closing his mouth. Harry pushed open the door to his temporary room and offered Draco a sluggish smile. "Night," he said shortly. He proceeded to tromp over to his bed, leaving his door wide open. He flopped down face first on to the mattress, sighing deeply.

Draco headed off to his own bed, his mind buzzing noisily even as he lied down and closed his eyes.

* * *

Harry woke up at around nine the next morning, peering sleepily from left to right. He was stiff, waiting for the typical impending attack from Draco every morning when he woke.

None was forthcoming however. This caused Harry to sit up, looking from left to right in confusion, only to remember that he was in Malfoy Manor.

A slow, sleepy smile turned up the sides of his lips as he observed his room.

If however temporary, it was the closest thing to a home aside from the Slytherin dorms that Harry could ever remember having.

Dudley's second bedroom had never been his. Just because Harry slept in it didn't mean it wasn't his cousin's and that it wouldn't always be his cousin's. And Dudley would make sure to remind him of that over the summer most likely, when his fear of growing a pig tail again had dissipated.

He touched a hand to the wall beside him just to convince himself that touching it would not make it fade away. He worried still that at some point he'd wake up back in his cupboard and this would all have been a wonderful dream that he wouldn't tell anyone about.

"Harry? Are you showered yet?" Draco called from the hallway, just as he poked his head in the open door.

Harry looked at him sleepily from where he sat in his bed and Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Of course not. Get up and shower then, we're leaving soon," he said.

Harry popped out of bed, a grin eating up his features as he nodded enthusiastically. He bolted toward the door to the washroom, running inside to get ready for the day.

* * *

Draco hopped down the steps, letting out a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes.

"Are you ready to go, Draco?" Lucius inquired from the bottom of the steps**.**

Draco nodded. "Harry!" he yelled, turning around to face the top of the steps. Harry rounded the corner, suddenly appearing before him, eyes wide as Draco had just practically yelled in his face.

Draco smiled. "There you are," he said cheerfully. "We're ready, Father," Draco said, turning back toward the bottom of the stairs. Lucius nodded, turning on his heel toward the fireplace in the sitting room.

Draco and Harry headed down the steps and raced into the room with the huge Christmas tree. Harry looked at it with wide eyes, the baubles sparkling and turning every which-way.

Lucius, Harry and Draco floo'ed directly to Gringotts this time. Harry stepped out of the fireplace and looked to his left just as Lucius and then Draco exited nearby fireplaces.

He headed through the marble lobby to catch up with the two. Draco raced over to meet him and the duo tagged along after Draco's father as he approached the main desk.

"Mr. Malfoy," the goblin at the counter greeted him in a way that, for a goblin, was probably respectful.

"I'll be making a withdrawal," Lucius said, holding out his wand without expression. The goblin carefully grasped the wand, turning it around in his hand a few times before handing it back and nodding.

"Will that be all for today, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

Lucius shook his head. "I'm here with Mr. Potter, who will also be making a withdrawal," Lucius said simply, standing out of the way. The goblin peered down at Harry curiously, nodding.

"Identification?" the goblin asked the green-eyed boy stiffly.

Harry blinked. "Um," he said thoughtfully, looking down.

"Your wand is your primary identification in the wizarding world, Harry. The key was only necessary before you accessed your vault for the first time. Gringotts now keeps track of the key and simply needs to confirm that you are who you claim to be," Lucius said in a quiet, quick tone of voice.

Harry nodded, looking up at the blond wizard thoughtfully. He reached into his robe pockets, carefully removing his wand and handing it to the goblin as Lucius had done.

The goblin turned the wand over once, nodding thoughtfully before handing it back down to Harry.

"This way," a goblin from behind the desk said, leading them down to the carts.

* * *

The boys spent the next several hours running from shop to shop. Draco was rather fond of shopping, Harry quickly realized.

He showed him his favorite shop, Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop. The boys spent a good hour in there, loading up on no-heat fireworks, gag potions, and exploding Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.

Then Draco's father took them Twilfitt and Tatting's where Draco made Harry buy some new clothes because all of his old ones "had to go". It was an upper market store, one Harry hadn't been near last time he'd visited Diagon Alley with Hagrid.

The boys then headed off to Quality Quidditch supplies, Harry's favorite store of the day.

"Hello lads," a friendly man with an Irish burr greeted them as they entered the store, identical grins of excitement alighting their features. He then returned to helping an older, teenage girl with picking a new broom out from the far left of the store.

Draco shoved a kid out of the way who was hovering over the case of a new Nimbus prototype. The kid yelped.

"Hey!" the kid snapped, turning to face the taller boy. The blond sneered angrily down at him and the little boy seemed to pale as Lucius entered the shop, and darted off to the other end of the shop.

Harry glared at Draco. Lucius walked toward the front of the shop and struck up a conversation with the shop owner, who seemed to get very quiet around the tall, intimidating man.

Harry shoved Draco hard in the side, knocking him away from the display case.

Draco gasped a bit, eyes lighting up with rage. "What was that for?" he shouted angrily, setting his jaw and narrowing his grey eyes as he stood up, having stumbled from the unexpected shove.

Harry shrugged. "You were in my way. I guess a bit like that kid was in your way. Funny how it works, isn't it?" Harry said stiffly. Harry felt angry at the boy's expense, remembering all the times Dudley and his friends had pushed, kicked or shoved him just because he was smaller. It filled him with sick rage to see Draco acting like such… such a _bully._

The grey-eyed boy glared at Harry, curling his hands into fists defiantly.

Harry stared back.

For a moment, they just stood in silence, Harry crossing his arms as he glared at the other boy.

Draco's grey eyes flashed with rage, and he took a step forward, opening his mouth before he suddenly snapped it closed, something like defeat flickering in the depths of his icy glare.

He blew out a long slow breath, his hands uncurling from fists, and dropped his gaze to the ground.

Harry uncrossed his arms.

"I'm not going to apologize to him," Draco said finally, his voice quiet as he admitted, even though silently, some form of defeat.

"I know," Harry said. Then he offered Draco a small smile.

Draco didn't return it, still sulking, but still acknowledged it, nodding once and turning to the promotional case.

Harry turned too, peering down through the glass.

The broom was made of black wood with silver highlights and revolving stirrups. It was sleek and shining, and just on the tip of the handle was the easily recognized Nimbus logo.

"The Nimbus 2001," Draco breathed, forgetting the brief fight in the presence of the awe-worthy broom.

"It comes out in August next year," Harry whispered. "Just after my birthday!" he exclaimed.

"It's beautiful," Draco murmured, eyes drooping with adoration.

"It looks to be a very fine broom. The revolving stirrups are certainly an improvement," Lucius mused from behind them, causing them both to startle.

"Father I need this," Draco said simply.

Lucius quirked a small smile, nodding. "I see," he said.

"Harry wants one too," Draco added. "Harry, don't get a broom now," he said suddenly, "hold off until this comes out! Then we can both have one," he said wisely.

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Draco, I have some business to attend to very briefly at Gringotts. Can I trust you to stay here while I'm gone? I will be back in twenty minutes."

Draco beamed. "Of course!" he said happily.

Lucius nodded, walking out the door, the bell jingling as it shut behind him.

Draco watched his father's figure disappear in a swarming crowd, mentally counted to ten before whirling in place, facing Harry.

"All right, let's go," Draco said, heading for the door.

Harry blinked several times, following after him. "Wait – Draco, your Dad just said-"

"And he's gone so let's go," Draco said simply, pushing open the door.

Harry looked anxiously from side to side before darting after the boy and into the busy street.

"Where exactly are we going?" Harry asked.

"Knockturn Alley!" Draco said, smiling,

* * *

"Are you sure we should be here, Draco?" Harry whispered, sticking close to the other boy's side as the eerie looking crowd around them stared.

All eyes seemed disturbingly drawn to Harry.

"Of course, I need to get a book from down here. Besides, I've been with Dad plenty of times. No one ever bothers us."

Harry felt unsure, looking back at a familiar, hooded man. Familiar in the sense that Harry felt as though he had probably been following them the past three or four minutes.

"Here it is," Draco said, pushing open the door to a shady store.

Harry followed inside timidly. Luckily, Draco didn't need long to find what he wanted, carefully pulling the selected book off of a shelf, eyes glimmering eagerly. "Exactly, this is exactly it," Draco murmured, brushing a hand down the spine of the old text.

There was no title on the front, but there was inscription in a language Harry couldn't read on the spine. It was a dark, leather-bound book.

"Can I help you boys?" a seedy, grubby-looking man asked as he walked out of one of the dark shadows of the store.

"I'd like to purchase this book," Draco said calmly, his face a blank mask Harry had never seen before on the boy.

The man looked at them both with piercing, dark brown eyes. He grunted, nodding. "All right, come with me."

Draco followed him to the desk as the back of the store.

"Fifty galleons, young Mr. Malfoy," the man said. He watched Harry as Draco carefully handed over the requested gold.

"Who would this be with you then, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, eyeing Harry in a way that made the green-eyed boy feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Draco gave him a cold, icy grey glare that would have made Lucius proud. "That's none of your concern."

With that Draco spun, heading out the door to the shop with Harry at his heels.

"I want to leave now, Draco," Harry murmured.

Draco nodded. "All right," he said. "That's all I had to do, anyway. Come on."

The boys began heading up the path toward Diagon Alley when suddenly it was blocked by the hooded man from earlier.

"Who might that be with you, Draco?" the cold voice drawled.

"A friend. We're going now, Carrow. My dad's waiting for us." Draco's voice held a barely concealed threat as he narrowed his eyes at the lumpy, short wizard.

The wizard gave a wheezy giggle, throwing back his head.

"Well I don't see him around to protect you and your _friend_," he said sneeringly. "Wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter, would it? Looks a right side like 'is dad, he does," Amycus Carrow drawled, stepping forward, mean eyes glinting toward Harry.

As soon as the name 'Harry Potter' was uttered, the entire alley lit up with interest, a few shadier folk edging forward from the sidewalks to stare.

"Amycus, what do you think you're doing?" the cold, clear voice of Lucius Malfoy cut through the air like a needle made of ice.

Carrow spun on his heel, facing the blond man, eyes wide. "Malfoy," he said stiffly, "just saying hello to Draco here and Mr. Potter," he said in a bad imitation of an innocent tone.

Lucius barely contained the rage on his face as he walked down into the alley, the shadier bunch parting out of his way as he approached Amycus and the boys. "Well that's good to hear, because it _sounded_ like you were threatening my son, Amycus. That wouldn't end well for you. How's the sister? Dementors treating her all right?"

Amycus's eyes flashed with rage and his face curled into a snarl. "Go to hell, Malfoy," Carrow whispered hoarsely.

"Come, Draco," Lucius said impatiently, gesturing toward the beckoning entrance of Diagon Alley.

Neither boys needed to be told twice, Harry darting up the walkway and out of the shady alley and into the bright sunlight. Draco beamed proudly up at his father.

"Draco, until you are older, it's best if you only visit Knockturn Alley with me," Lucius said simply.

Harry blinked, having expected some sort of reprimand or punishment.

Draco nodded enthusiastically and like nothing had ever happened, the three of them exited into the Leaky Cauldron with all of their new things in tow, and floo'ed back to the manor.

* * *

**Well not a lot going on this chapter... but wow guys, I'm absolutely floored by all the attention this story has gotten! Never expected it to do this well, a thousand thanks!  
**

**Reviews are what make me smile every day!**


	10. Happy Christmas (Eve)

**CHAPTER TEN: Happy Christmas (Eve)**

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**Super Special Author's Note:** Holy WOW guys. 100 reviews this early on? I did _not_ expect that, not at all. Ugh. You're all too nice to me.

* * *

The boys spent the rest of their break without thinking about the Stone or Quirrel. Harry talked to the snakes in the yard a few more times, learning a few of their names and asking them questions for Draco.

Draco took to trying to mimic Harry's sounds, but Harry wasn't able to correct his pronunciation. He either got it, and Harry understood the words he was trying to say, or he failed miserably, and Harry couldn't hear anything other than strangled hissing. Still, he was able to say basic things like "hello", and how to introduce himself, after some practice.

Lucius thought this was wonderful and had taken a keen interest in encouraging the boys to stay in touch over the summer, even going so far as to invite Harry over for a week should he wish to visit.

Harry was ecstatic. He'd stay all summer long if he could, and he was certain the Dursleys wouldn't be anything less than ecstatic to be rid of him.

A few days before Christmas Eve, Draco began to notice Harry acting very oddly. He asked Draco's father for the prophet in the morning, then didn't read it, and tucked it away.

Another time, Draco caught him going over a magical catalogue which he quickly stuffed away, eyes wide with innocence that Draco didn't entirely trust.

All the same, the blond chose not to press the issue, because whenever he did Harry got very avoidant and quiet.

One day, the two stumbled across a book of spells they'd never heard of in one corner of the library, and had been practicing them on inanimate objects in the house. Most of the time, the spells were unsuccessful for the two, doing absolutely nothing, but from time to time they would explode a vase (they learned the reparo spell pretty fast) or rip a curtain, or something of the sort.

They used some of the less dangerous ones (for example, the ear-wiggling hex) and practiced shield charms with each other for a couple hours one night. The week leading up to Christmas passed by however without either boys sustaining any (significant) injuries.

They tried to find time to deduce what Harry's scar was trying to tell them, but in the end time slipped away from them, and there was nothing in the library that proved to be helpful the few times they did go researching.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry and Draco spent the whole day practicing Quidditch out in the pitch. Harry used a nicely kept broom that Draco had before his Nimbus 2000, and Draco used his Nimbus.

"You know Harry, have you ever been to a professional Quidditch game?" Draco asked as they drifted lazily along on their brooms, high above the ground. They'd just finished a seven-round game of Keeper and Chaser. Basically, each boy played both the Keeper and a Chaser, and the first to seven goals won. Draco had won four to three.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'd love to though," he said dreamily, dangling his feet in the wind.

"I'll have to take you to one some day. The Quidditch World Cup is going to be held in England this time. You could come to that with us," Draco said eagerly.

"When is it?" Harry said excitedly.

"It's held every four years. So, three years from now," Draco said.

"Oh." Harry sulked.

"Don't look so sad, I mean, it could be four years," Draco said optimistically with a shrug.

Harry nodded. "I guess so," he responded, tucking his scarf into his shirt as the wind picked up. "I hope it snows tonight," he mused aloud. "Who would we be rooting for at the match, anyway?"

"Bulgaria. Their Seeker is just amazing," Draco said matter-of-factly. "Victor Krum, he's the best Seeker there is. Although, Ireland has a better team overall. But I mean if the Seeker's good enough, you can win every game. No one can score one hundred and sixty points, no matter how good they are, in less than fifteen minutes. If the Seeker is fast enough, the game is over."

Harry nodded. "But then, if the team is good enough as a whole, they can effectively keep the Seeker from the other team busy and score some goals."

Draco nodded. "Fair enough."

"What do you think is gonna happen, if we don't get the Stone in time?" Harry mused, yawning.

Draco shrugged as he laid flat on his broom, arms dangling toward the earth below. "I guess, if he's using it for what we think he is… He'll start another war."

"And bring back the Death Eaters?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded against his broom handle, sighing. "Yeah, probably that."

"You said some of your family were Death Eaters?"

"Yeah. Voldemort appealed to their pureblood favoritism. Said he would get rid of all the muggleborns and things like that." Harry flinched, opening his mouth to interrupt, but Draco continued, "And the purebloods who didn't support him, they put under the Imperius Curse. Like my Dad," he finished.

"The Imperius Curse?" Harry asked, deciding not to press on the subject of muggleborns. He _knew_ Draco didn't feel that way. He hung out with Hermione, after all, even if he did only do so out of respect for Harry's friendship with the girl.

"It's an evil curse. You control the person's body and mind and you can make them do whatever you want. Voldemort did it infamously to high-ranking ministry workers."

Harry stared off in the distance, deep in thought. "It must have been awful for your parents."

Draco shook his head, shrugging a bit. "It's not supposed to be painful. But I 'spose they probably feel terrible about everything they did under the curse. Though, I'm sure it was only things like voting for political movements they'd rather they hadn't, and things like that." The blond attempted and failed to keep the anxious defiance out of his tone.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, Draco."

Draco shrugged. "I don't remember it anyway, I was just a baby."

Harry nodded, and Draco looked up at him.

"Why did the muggles you stayed with hate you?" he asked.

Harry shrugged too, staring at the ground. "They knew my Mum and Dad were magic and they weren't the type of muggles to… understand. They didn't like magic, I guess they were sort of afraid of it. So they tried to sort of… keep me from being magic. Uncle Vernon said something about, how as soon as they took me in they'd decided they'd put a stop to it."

Draco blinked. "They tried to make you into a _squib_ by_ force_?" he asked in a tone filled with disgust, his lip curling.

Harry nodded, peering at the boy curiously. "I think so. That is - what's a squib?" he asked.

Draco frowned. "Opposite of a muggleborn. A squib is a non-magic person born from two magical parents."

Harry paused. "Yeah, then, yes, they did."

"That's horrible," Draco said, face pinched in outrage as he shuddered. "You know, in pure blood families, they go to all sorts of crazy extremes to try to get kids to show magical ability. To make sure they aren't a squib. Hang them out of windows to see if they float and such."

"That sounds pretty horrible too," Harry pointed out. "Because it's one thing to have only normal things expected to you, but it's another to expect someone who could be normal to fly."

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't happen often," he said. "Squibs are pretty rare."

"Were you ever hung out a window?" Harry asked finally.

Draco gaped at him in mock-offense. "No! Of course not. My parents knew I wasn't a squib right away. You can always sort of tell. You usually only do things like that if you're unsure – if they have a naturally weak magical aura. I displayed accidental magic for the first time when I was four, anyway. They usually only start if you haven't by the time you're seven or eight."

"I see," Harry said in thought, silently wondering about the odd wizarding world customs.

"What's a wizard Christmas like?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "We open presents and eat food. Honestly Harry, why would you think it'd be anything different?"

* * *

That night, Harry and Draco tromped up the stairs toward their bedrooms. Harry was painfully wide awake. He had spent every Christmas since he was five years old waiting until midnight and wishing himself a happy Christmas, silently celebrating in the sleeping house. He'd never gotten presents, so it'd sort of become a present to himself.

A quiet moment, a happy moment, where the Dursleys weren't there to ruin it and Harry could simply enjoy the wonder of Christmas, imagining in his head a house where there were presents under the tree for him, too.

Draco yawned sleepily. "Christmas tomorrow," he murmured.

This was obvious though. The house-elves had finished the decorating and were going about their usual chores again, all humming different classical wizard Christmas songs. They watered the tree, dusted the baubles, put up new candles. Mistletoe hung along ceilings and doorframes and there were at least six different Christmas trees set up around the house.

As Draco had predicted, snow was twirling down through the inky black night sky, illuminated by the moon. It had put a thick blanket of blinding white over the Malfoy Manor. The moon reflected off the snow, giving the outside a glowing appearance.

Draco rubbed at his eyes sleepily with one knuckle. "Harry, I'm exhausted. Good night," he said without much bravado, standing up and heading into his room. They had been sitting in Harry's, reading over some advanced charm spells.

Harry didn't even look up, only nodding in response as he turned another page of his book. "Good-night Draco," he called.

_The Patronus Charm._

Harry's eyes flicked over the beautifully illustrated drawings of strange, mist-like beings. They were all animals, both magical and non-magical. They seemed to be made of glowing, stretching… light, or mist. It curled around the corners of the pages in the drawing. They looked soulful, gorgeous.

He read over the production of the charm. It was used to ward off dementors – the dark magic creatures Harry knew guarded the wizard prison, Azkaban. It acted as a sort of barrier between you and a dementor. A full-fledged Patronus takes the form of an animal, and serves many functions. Aside from being able to attack – rather than block – a dementor, it was also able to travel long distances without leaving a trace and to exchange messages, faster and more reliably than an owl.

The charm was considered to be very difficult. It was noted that many wizards are never able to conjure a full-fledged Patronus, and to be able to do so is the mark of a very powerful wizard.

Harry stood, closing his eyes and directing his wand in front of him.

He did as the book had said, and gathered up as many warm, happy memories as he could. Then he sifted through them. Just one. And it had to be a strong one. The strongest one he had.

He picked his first time flying. He remembered the cool chill of the wind against him, the feeling of freedom, of friendship as Stephen and Draco hovered beside him.

"Expecto Patronum!" he cried, clearly and concisely. He opened his eyes.

A blue sort of smoke emitted from his wand for five… then ten seconds, before it faded, Harry panting for breath.

He sighed in frustration, plonking down on to the floor and shutting the book closed, marking the page. He set the book up on the night stand next to his bed and headed into the washroom to ready for bed.

* * *

Harry really did try to sleep. He honestly did.

In the end, he couldn't. No matter how long he screwed his eyes closed and wished for sleep, bubbly excitement in his stomach drove him to his feet again.

He finally cast a silencing charm over the room - which he hoped worked, lest he face the wrath of a certain Draco Malfoy being woken from his beauty sleep - and practiced the charm again and again, using different memories.

The first time he met Draco, his first friend. Same response as the first memory.

Visiting the joke shop with Draco – a better response, the fog stretched out further from his wand and began to create a sort of curved shape just before it dissipated.

At some point, Harry resigned himself to the fact that maybe he just wasn't happy enough to perform a Patronus. Maybe he just didn't have any memories that made the cut.

He got thirsty at about three in the morning so he snuck quietly down the grand staircase, turning around the corner and into the kitchen.

To his shock, he nearly ran right into Mrs. Malfoy. She gave a small 'oh!' upon seeing him, and backed up, her light blue eyes narrowed.

Harry flinched back, but as soon as she recognized him her expression softened, a small frown of concern touching her eyes. "Harry? What are you doing out of bed?" she asked.

He flushed, staring at the floor. "I-I'm a bit too excited to sleep, I came down to see if there was anything I could, err-"

"Something to drink?" Narcissa asked, the frown of concern being replaced with a knowing smile. She turned, heading back into the kitchen, beckoning Harry to follow.

"I understand. When I was a little girl I couldn't sleep Christmas Eve, no matter how hard I tried. My two sisters never seemed to have that problem. My father said he always did though, and he would always make me a cup of hot chocolate that put me right to sleep," she explained as she pulled out her wand, waving it around a few times. The cupboards in the kitchen began to spring to life, opening and removing two mugs and a jar of melting chocolate.

She turned back to see Harry still standing shyly, and gestured toward the table. "You can sit, Harry," she said. She turned back around to watch her spells, lighting the fire under the stove with a flick of her wrist. "Do you want some hot chocolate? You never know, maybe it'll work for you too."

Harry nodded. "I'd like that, thank you Mrs. Malfoy," he murmured. "Sorry to bother you this late."

Narcissa laughed a little, shaking her head and turning to face him again as the drinking chocolate started itself over the stove.

"You're no bother, Harry. I guess I fibbed a little – it wasn't only when I was a little girl. I suppose old habits die hard. I still can't always sleep through the night before Christmas. You caught me on my way to make the coco."

"Draco fell asleep a while ago," Harry said.

Narcissa nodded, smiling. "He's like his father. When they know they have an exciting day ahead they have this wondrous skill of being able to sleep almost immediately as it gets dark, so they can wake up as soon as the sun allows. I'm sure you've noticed his habit of noisily waking up anyone who isn't up with him? He says you're dorm-mates."

Harry nodded. "He always wakes me up an hour before breakfast. An hour!"

She laughed. "I'm sorry to say he'll probably have us both up considerably earlier than our liking tomorrow, if we do manage to get to sleep." Narcissa turned, twirling her wand to turn off the stove and rise the pot of drinking chocolate off of the stove, pouring the steaming liquid into two mugs. She waved her wand again and the mugs floated over to their respective owners, Harry's settling itself down neatly by his hand on the table, and Narcissa's landing in her outstretched palm.

She tucked her wand away, turning to face Harry as he took a slow sip of the steaming liquid.

"Oh, careful Harry, it's hot," she warned just a bit too late. Harry's eyes watered and he set the mug down rather quickly, his tongue tingling from the residual heat.

"So sorry, should have mentioned earlier," she murmured. "Open up, or you'll only be able to taste rubber for the next week."

Harry obediently opened up his mouth to reveal his burned tongue. Narcissa cast a silent healing spell, and Harry felt peculiarly as though he were sucking on an ice cube for a few seconds. The sensation faded, and with it, so did the residual sting of the burn.

"Wow, thank you!" Harry said excitedly. Narcissa nodded, smiling and casting a weak cooling charm on his mug.

"It should be safer to drink now. If it needs reheated though, let me know. I've never been very good with my temperature charms. They're such finicky little things. Draco tells me you like charms, Harry?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically as he took a sip of the warm, sweet drinking chocolate, eyelids drooping on the first sip. "Yeah! I've been going over some books that I found in the library – Draco showed me, I mean, I hope that's allowed," he said, pausing as he suddenly realized what he'd said.

"Yes of course. You're welcome to borrow anything you like from the library Harry," she said, nodding to encourage him to go on.

"And, well, I've been trying out some new ones! Some are going very well for me. I'm, well, I've actually gotten pretty decent at temperature charms, myself. I'm really good at the featherweight charm. But I was trying this, well, more advanced one, and I was wondering if you could give me some tips," Harry said.

Narcissa nodded, taking a sip of her own hot chocolate. "I can do my best. What charm is it?"

"The Patronus Charm. I can produce a mist, but it doesn't last. If I change what memory I use, it almost looks like it's trying to shape something, but it fizzles."

Narcissa pursed her lips as she thought, humming quietly to herself for a moment. "You know Harry," she started. "That's a very difficult charm. There are plenty of adults who can't do it much better than you describe being able to."

Harry looked deflated, setting down his hot chocolate, but Narcissa continued: "But if you're really set on learning it, and you've already made that much progress, well… I could go over it with you this summer if you come to visit. Draco would love to learn it too, I'm sure, and it's not something I can merely correct your pronunciation or wand movement on. It's a very tricky spell. Until then, I suggest to keep trying different memories. The biggest thing is, it's not how wholly good or sensible the memory is, or even how clear it is – it's how the memory makes you feel. The feeling has to swell up inside you and fill you up with so much joy, love and positivity that you simply can't hold it all in your body, so you project it into the form of a Patronus. Most people choose to use a memory because it stimulates the feelings necessary, but if you can just gather up a feeling, or the memory of a feeling, and if it's powerful enough, then give it a try."

Harry nodded, eyes wide despite the sleepy tug of his eyebrows as he took a final drink of his mug of hot chocolate. "Thank you Mrs. Malfoy," he said, beaming. "That really helps. And thanks for the coco too-" he paused to yawn, "-I really appreciate it."

She smiled. "Any time, Harry," she said, whisking the mugs away with her wand.

Harry turned to leave, pausing just as he reached the door way. "Oh and, happy Christmas Mrs. Malfoy," he said, offering a small, tentative smile.

"Happy Christmas Harry."

* * *

"WAKE, UP! WAKE, UP! WAKE, UP!" The green-eyed Slytherin awoke to the shouting of none other than Draco Malfoy, who was recklessly beating Harry's no-longer-sleeping form with a pillow. Harry covered his head as the pillow came swinging for his ear.

"Oh good, you're awake!" Draco exclaimed cheerfully, dropping the pillow. He grabbed the other boy by the shoulder, pulling him nearly out of bed.

Harry sat up sleepily, thoroughly confused by his attacker, and scooted away from the hand pulling him out of his warm bed.

"It's Christmas you dunce now get up and stop trying to sleep on such a perfectly good day!" Draco exclaimed, glaring at him.

"I'm not, I'm up!" Harry protested, rubbing at his tired eyes and blinking sleepily.

"Good. Stay that way," Draco said sternly. Harry peered curiously at the blond. He was entirely ready, clearly having already showered, dressed and fixed his hair for the day. "I woke up Mum and Dad and Mum told me not to wake you, so then Dad took me out for breakfast at Hogsmeade, and you were still sleeping, so I came up and woke you up because honestly this is ridiculous and no one should be allowed to sleep in this late on Christmas."

"What time is it?" Harry asked, fumbling for his glasses on his nightstand. They were nowhere to be found, and Harry jumped back as Draco crammed them forcibly on to his face.

"Ten thirty!"

Harry adjusted his glasses to the correct position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, giving the blond a look that bordered on a glare. "Ten thirty?"

"Yes."

Harry scowled, narrowing his eyes and Draco huffed. "Don't give me that look, it's Christmas and there are presents and your lazy self was keeping me from opening my presents!"

Harry's eyes lit up as something occurred to him and he leaped out of bed and ran over to his trunk, smiling widely.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, following the boy over. Harry pulled out a box that was messily wrapped in recent Prophet papers.

Harry looked down at the box, and then pushed it into Draco's hands, staring shyly at the ground.

Draco blinked at it. "What's this?" he asked, touching the top of the box gently.

"It's-it's a present. Just open it. It's not much," Harry mumbled.

Draco frowned. "You didn't have to-"

"Shut up and open it, all right?" Harry said, cheeks a bit pink.

Draco nodded and pulled the papers away from a simple, plain box. He pulled open the top of the box. Inside was an enchanted chocolate frog, who was hopping repeatedly, and looked up at the boy, croaking. The box was clearly enchanted with a cooling charm to keep the little frog from melting.

Sitting on the bottom of his container was a Ptolemy card, wrapped in an enchanted plastic sealing to protect it from bending, folding, tearing or staining.

"How did you get this?" Draco murmured.

Harry smiled, ignoring his question. "You like it?" he asked tentatively.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course I like it you idiot," he said in an uncommonly soft voice. He looked up and smiled, a real smile that touched his grey eyes. "I - thank you, Harry. It was rumored they were out of production, and, I tried to buy one for _ages_ but honestly no one would-"

Harry nodded, fidgeting nervously in place. Draco smiled, carefully removing the card from the box. "Let's go downstairs I - Mum and Dad, well, they're waiting," Draco chirped, and turned around, darting out into the hall and down the steps.

* * *

**MUCH, MUCH THANKS to all of my reviewers, favoriters, followers** and the like. I make an effort to respond to every logged in review that I can in a private message, but I can't tell you guys without accounts how much the support really means to me. It's invaluable to me to know that there are people out there reading this, and it's really the warmest, most contenting feeling in the entire world to know my work is appreciated. Cheers!


	11. Happy Christmas (Really!)

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: Happy Christmas (Really!)**

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**Author's Note: **_It's so short. Ah it burns! I'm so sorry! D: The chapter was telling me it was time to end it! Hopefully longer chapter next time xoxo Struggled a bit with this chapter, hope it isn't noticeable. Sorry sorry!_

* * *

Harry quickly followed the other boy down the steps. Soft Christmas carols that Harry didn't recognize rang through the halls. The mistletoe was enchanted to play music. Draco was already at the bottom step by the time Harry reached the top of the stairs. The black-haired Slytherin raced down the steps three at a time to catch up, feeling dizzy from moving so fast so early in the morning.

"Happy Christmas Mum!" Draco's voice rang out from the sitting room just as Harry entered. Mrs. Malfoy looked tired, but a soft smile played on her lips, her light blue eyes shining with warmth. Draco looked around her, eyes scanning the room as if he were looking for something.

"Happy Christmas Draco," she said, scooping him into a quick hug. Draco squirmed free, eyes immediately alighting upon the massive pile of presents beneath the tree, lips parted in awe. "Your Father had an emergency work call, but he said he'd like you to open the presents without him and tell him about them later."

Harry stood in the archway, eyes also glued to the massive pile of presents. Somehow, they managed to make the enormous tree seem even larger. He quietly scooted off to the side of the room to watch as Draco made a dive for the pile of presents, ripping a large one off the top of the pile.

"This one's for you Harry!" Draco shouted, setting the large box to his left and looking to where Harry stood with a look of disbelief on his tired features.

"For me?" Harry said faintly, eyebrows pinching slightly in confusion.

"Yes for you, what are you doing over there, standing around, looking uncomfortable? Get over here," Draco snapped, turning back to the pile, and pushing some out of the way as he went for another big one.

Harry reminded himself to close his mouth and slowly drifted over to the Christmas tree, a look of shock seeming permanently glued to his face.

"I-" Harry started, stopping as he realized he was genuinely at a loss as to what to say.

"Go on, open it!" Draco said impatiently as he pulled a heavy present of his own into his lap.

"Don't shake that one," Draco's mother warned him as he stared down at the odd present.

She looked over to Harry, smiling as he sat down by the tree and gently touched the ribbon on top of his own gift.

"You didn't need to get me anything, really," Harry said, pressing his lips together, his expression unreadable.

Narcissa smiled. "We wanted to, Harry. Draco, why don't you open this one first?" she added, stepping over to the tree and pulling out a large present that was a similar shape as Harry's, and handing it to the blond.

Draco nodded eagerly, taking the present from his mother and ripping into the thin wrapping impatiently.

Harry peeled off the first layer, and the boys managed to give almost simultaneous gasps of wonder.

"How?" Draco demanded, ripping the remaining wrapping off of the heavy wooden box, which was engraved neatly in the corner: _Nimbus 2001_.

"Your father pulled some strings, he'll have to tell you about it later," Narcissa said, eyes pinched with a smile as Harry gaped openly at his own gift.

Draco turned to Harry, looking to check that he had indeed gotten the same thing.

"Thank you," Harry breathed, running a hand over the smooth wood of the case, eyes sparkling with joy. He carefully pushed open the case, unhooking the latches.

"We are going flying _right away_, do you understand me?" Draco said shortly as he stared down at his own broom in awe. He looked up very sharply, eyes wide with disbelief and delight. "Thank you, Mum!" he said.

Harry nodded and Narcissa laughed. "You both still have more presents to open and Harry hasn't eaten breakfast!"

* * *

The boys did end up obediently finishing opening the rest of their presents - Harry got a book of new charm spells he'd never heard of, some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, a pack of Snitches each ingrained with different personalities to challenge every aspect of a Seeker's abilities, and a lovely new scarf in black, silver and green. Draco's idea of his mother buying him mittens also seemed to hold some truth to it, as he did indeed find a soft pair of black gloves stuffed into the bottom of one of his presents.

Harry decided to skip breakfast with the encouragement of Draco - not that he needed much, the green-eyed boy wanted to test out his new broom, _his_ very _own_ new broom right away - and took out one of the Snitches which apparently tested the speed of the Seeker. They'd thought about using the one that tested your ability to find a hiding Snitch but decided they didn't want to lose the first one they took out of the pack.

Harry held tight to his new broom as it shot through the air, hot on the heels of a desperately fluttering Snitch, Draco at his side, arm outstretched.

Harry urged his broom faster, nearly blinded by the wind, eyes pinched closed. His knuckles were white from the force of his grip and the tips of his ears were pink.

He reminded himself to breathe. It was easy to forget on a broom - flying literally did take your breath away at speeds like this.

Neither boy could speak, the force of the wind drowning out their voices. The Snitch took a dive and the boys followed suit, Draco's broom finally lagging behind by a foot, then a couple feet, then ten.

Harry pushed on, following the Snitch into the blinding dive, the wind stinging like a slap to the face. He forced his eyes open and they watered madly. He blinked the tears away, fighting to keep a visual on the shimmering Snitch.

He took another gasp of air. Finally, finally, he found that he was gaining on the stubborn Snitch. Its hummingbird-like wings began to flutter a bit slower, as if it simply couldn't keep up the pace any longer.

And in that moment of hesitation, Harry snatched it from the air and gave a whoop of delight that was ripped away by the wind and came out as a startled gasp. Nonetheless, a watery-eyed grin ate up his entire expression.

His broom began to slow and he gasped for breath, his vision swimming momentarily as he laughed, holding up the Snitch, smiling blindly.

"_Four minutes,_" Draco said breathlessly.

Harry laughed in response, his stomach muscles flinching from the effort, his limbs aching in exhaustion but his smile never faltering. "This is amazing," he panted out. "This broom, did you see, wow," he said eloquently through his grin.

"I think that is the fastest I have ever seen anyone go on a broomstick in my entire life," Draco declared. "Let's go ask Morsus if he's ever seen faster."

Harry laughed again, shaking his head and finally lowering his hand holding the snitch, fingertips grazing the smooth metal. "I don't think Morsus makes a habit of watching wizards fly on brooms," he said helpfully as the boys pulled their brooms down toward the ground, landing.

Morsus was the eldest of the snakes in the hibernaculum. Upon finding that Harry was a Parselmouth from the other snakes, he had taken a keen interest in the boy.

He was a magical snake, not like the others. He was much older and held much more intellectual conversation - many of the others liked to talk about how mice and rats tasted, all hours of the day - and was generally more aware of things in the human and wizarding world than the others.

Harry still seriously doubted that the old snake, as politely interested in humans as he was, had any idea what Quidditch even was.

Harry convinced Draco that it was best to leave the snake to enjoy his Christmas actually hibernating, as he liked to, and the two headed inside.

"Draco," Harry started suddenly as the two put their brooms away, heading up the large staircase.

Draco stopped at the other boy's tone, looking at him and arching one eyebrow quizzically.

"I - what your family - what I mean to say is, is I really appreciate-" he stuttered, frowning. Draco held up a hand to stop him.

"You're my friend Harry. And my fourth cousin, twice removed or something-"

"-Really?"

"-And you don't need to keep thanking us for treating you like family should. All right?"

"We're cousins?"

* * *

The boys spent the last few days of their break practicing the gags they'd bought from the joke shop and playing on their brooms. As the day they'd return to Hogwarts drew closer, they discussed their plans on approaching the Quirrel problem.

"There's sure to be several layers of protection, loads past a hellhound. I'm sure Quirrel's biding his time this year, trying to figure out just what he's up against, and get there as prepared as possible," Draco said, eyes drifting closed in thought.

Harry nodded. "Do you think he's ready to steal it now? Why else would he have attempted on Halloween?"

Draco paused, then slowly shook his head. "No, no. The troll wasn't a long enough of a distraction. He was just trying to get a look, I think. And Professor Snape probably headed him off, knowing that the troll was a ruse. So that stopped that. I suppose that slowed him down a bit."

"Maybe he'll never get past Fluffy. I mean it's not likely you figure out that playing an instrument makes a giant magical creature happy. And he's impervious to stunning spells."

"He could just kill him," Draco pointed out.

Harry nodded. "Good point," he said sadly, slouching in his seat.

"But he wouldn't do that before he found out what defenses the Stone already has. Because if he did, he risks it being noted that someone is after the stone in Hogwarts, and having more defenses placed or having it moved. So that does buy us time."

"Do you think the Professors would take us seriously if we told them about this?" Harry asked hopefully.

Draco shook his head. "I'd like to tell Professor Snape when we have indisputable proof. I worry that my Mother's made him make some Unbreakable Vow or something though, about keeping me safe. And I assume letting me investigate the possible theft of the Philosopher's Stone would be considered unsafe."

Harry sighed. "What's an Unbreakable Vow?" he asked finally, rubbing at one of his eyes sleepily.

"A vow that you can't break," Draco drawled.

Harry glared at him grumpily.

"It's a magical binding contract. You die if you break it."

Harry gaped, sitting up a little straighter. "You can't seriously say that your Mum would make Professor Snape make an Unbreakable Vow," he said disbelievingly.

Draco shrugged. "They're not fatal unless you break them."

Harry stared at him before shaking his head, sighing.

"All right. So we get back, and after hours we sneak out with the Invisibility Cloak to find out what Quirrel is up to. Right? And maybe find out what he has with him that makes my scar hurt."

"Right," Draco confirmed. "If we find out anything is happening, like if Quirrel is planning on making a move for the stone that night, we go to Professor Snape."

"Right," Harry agreed.

Draco nodded and Harry stood from his seat, walking over to his trunk and letting out a sudden, defeated groan.

"Is something wrong?"

"We had History of Magic homework for over the holidays," Harry said miserably.

* * *

**Reviews always manage to turn my bad days into good ones. Put a smile on my face? Only takes a second. :)**


	12. Home Sweet Home

**CHAPTER TWELVE: Home Sweet Home**

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Just a heads up... First year will be ending soon! I won't say how soon. But, just so you guys aren't too shocked!_

* * *

**Due to excessive ridiculous love from my readers, here's an early chapter for all of yous peoples. Oh gosh you're great :')**

* * *

Harry hastily threw things into his trunk one after one, floating some in with a handy levitation charm he'd been working on and tossing the other, less breakable objects, from a distance.

He gasped for breath as he darted around, idly wondering how he'd made his room into such a mess. He didn't own very many things, he shuddered to think of what his room would look like when he did.

"Harry, did you just wake up?" Draco's voice called through the wall accusingly.

Harry had promised Draco that he could wake up and be ready to go without being beaten awake. Draco had taken this as a challenge and forced Harry into a bet wherein if he was not ready to go in time, he would not only owe the other boy ten galleons, but Draco would spend the rest of his days beating him awake with a pillow.

Harry threw things into his trunk a little more hastily, shoving in one of his new cloaks on top and snapping it shut. "No!" he lied through his teeth, yelling out the door and into the hall. "Just... washing up!"

He raced into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.

He stared in the mirror, rubbing at his exhaustion-pinched eyes. He had never been a morning person. Years of being woken up early, and you'd think he'd have adjusted.

He reached for a comb, running it through his black locks. He yanked on a tangle, flinching in pain as he pulled through it. He finished up with brushing his teeth and a quick freshen up charm that he was thankful he'd had time to practice.

He darted out the bathroom door, deciding to forgo a morning shower. The freshen up charm did the trick enough to deceive Draco, surely.

Draco was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched. He looked as meticulously groomed as always as he watched Harry, who offered him a hesitant smile and walked over to his trunk.

"So you got up on time?" Draco asked, deceptively sweetly.

Harry shuddered at the dangerous tone and nodded. "Yeah, totally, of course," he said, not looking up at the blond.

"Got everything?" Draco asked.

Harry paused, lifting open his trunk and thinking. "I - yeah," Harry said slowly, not believing his own words.

Missing... something was missing... But what?

_Invisibility cloak._

Harry stood up very straight, looking around the room. He'd seen it just last night, hadn't he?

Draco smirked at him knowingly. "It's time to go, I really do hope you have everything," he said in a falsely cheery voice. He stopped leaning on the wall and straightened up, brushing himself off and heading out the door.

Harry looked around helplessly, ducking under his bed and feeling around for the silvery cloak.

"Where is it?" Harry groaned to himself.

"Two minutes!" Draco called gleefully from the steps.

"I'm on my way!" Harry yelled back, hissing in pain as he pulled out from under the bed and smacked his head on the frame.

Time was ticking. Harry didn't want to lose. Nor did he want to spend the rest of his days being smacked with pillows into consciousness. It really didn't help with his distaste for mornings.

He raced around the room, checking in the drawers of the wardrobe, under the wardrobe, under the chair, behind the chair, in the chair cushion.

"Thirty seconds!" Draco called cheerfully.

"Draco, it's time to go! Your Father will be at the station to see you off, and he doesn't have long!" Narcissa's call cut through the boys' argument.

Harry groaned in defeat, lugging his heavy trunk toward the door.

"And, you lost," Draco said cheerfully as Harry appeared at the top of the steps. "By two seconds. Such a shame. Here you are," the Slytherin said, unlatching his own trunk and pulling out Harry's invisibility cloak. He handed it to the stunned boy, still grinning.

"You cheated!" Harry gasped.

"There was a rule against that?" Draco asked innocently.

Harry glared, and then his eyes alighted on to something minuscule squirming on Draco's shoulder. He reached forward, snapping it up with his fingers, eyeing it curiously. Draco patted his shoulder in a nervous fashion, eyes wide as he leaned forward to get a better look at what Harry had in between his fingers.

It was a stinging worm, used in some more dangerous potions. Their needle-like tail produced a poison that was not usually dangerous to humans, but became so with the right ingredients.

The worm dug its poisonless stinger into Harry's finger and the green-eyed boy gave a sharp hiss, dropping it and stepping it into the floor without a second thought.

Draco's eyebrows knitted in concern. "What was that?"

Harry looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "A stinging worm, Draco, why did you have a-"

"Draco, come now, you can't miss the train," Draco's mother called up the steps with mild impatience.

Draco hopped cheerfully down the steps, utterly pleased with himself and seemingly eager to avoid the subject. Harry cast a floating charm on his trunk and. remembering he had lost the bet, stomped grumpily down, scowling.

"What's the matter with you two?" Narcissa asked curiously, a small frown cast on her delicate features. Draco smiled.

"Nothing! We're doing brilliant! Love you Mum!" Draco chirped, practically skipping past her toward the fireplace.

"Just brilliant," Harry intoned morosely, following after the blond quietly.

Narcissa watched the two suspiciously before shaking it off and stepping into the Floo fire after them.

* * *

Following the long, excitement-ridden train ride, the boys hopped down the stairs toward the dungeon and home to their familiar common room.

"I never thought I'd miss it this much," Harry said as they approached the painting. "Purus," he said. The painting nodded agreeably and swung open to reveal the silver and green common room.

Draco's head felt muddled as he searched for a response before he finally decided one wasn't necessary, and followed the other into the dorm, yawning.

"Hey Draco, Harry," Adrian Pucey said as the two stepped inside, nodding but not looking up from his book. "Have a good Christmas?" he asked in a distracted tone.

Harry nodded and beamed, falling into a chair next to the Keeper. "Yeah! Best Christmas ever. How was yours? Get any cool stuff?" he asked excitedly.

Draco rubbed sleepily at one eye, settling down in a chair a little further away from the two as they chatted, his eyes drifting closed. Train rides were always so exhausting.

So very, very exhausting.

Darkness began pulling the boy under.

"Draco, are you all right?" Harry's sharp voice cut through the boy's near-sleep. Draco shot upright, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he glared at the other boy.

"Of course," he snapped. He fought another yawn, leaning back into his cushioned seat.

_Now if he'd just let me sleep,_ Draco mused silently, eyelids drooping.

Harry stood up with a look of concern, walking over to the blond as his eyelids dropped again. The green-eyed Slytherin grabbed Draco by the shoulder, giving him a shake which gradually brought the wizard to consciousness once more.

"You're falling asleep," Harry insisted.

"No, I'm being shaken awake by some idiot," Draco snapped in response, finding himself almost unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

"You're really pale, Draco," Adrian intoned quietly, hoping not to draw more attention to the three of them.

"Gee thanks, it's winter, forgot I'm supposed to be out sunning," Draco snapped, barely finding the energy to tug his arm away from Harry. "I'm just tired, that's all," he insisted. His legs suddenly began to give way and he swayed in place, eyes closing.

"Draco!" Harry's sharp voice was drowned out by a rushing in his ears as everything turned to black and he fell into the sleep that had been playing at the edges of his mind.

* * *

The blond woke up some time later, finding himself staring up at a white ceiling. He took in a deep breath, and the pungent smell of healing potions assaulted him.

He sat up, his head throbbing as he did, and looked around.

"Oh good, you're up," Madam Pomphrey said from his right, startling him as he turned to look at her. "Yes, yes, just drink up, there you go," she said as she handed him a cup of some unidentified potion, tipping it toward his lips.

He took a confused drink, and a feeling like a bucket of cold water washed over him. He opened his eyes a little wider, noting for the first time that it was nighttime. The hospital wing was dark, dimly lit on his side by candles.

"Feeling all right? Aside from the headache?" the Healer asked impatiently. Draco blinked, nodding. His mouth felt dry as he opened it to speak and he let out a hoarse cough.

"This boy," Madam Pomphrey said, nodding to a darkened figure slumped in a chair on Draco's left, "claims that you simply collapsed in the middle of the common room. Good thing he got you here as fast as he did, seems as if you were poisoned by some sort of potion gone wrong. Although, I suspect nothing too serious would have happened."

Draco blinked several times, eyes widening. "I wasn't making any-" he began to lie.

"Oh no, no it couldn't have been your fault dear, the potion ingredients needed to result in such a strong affect, they simply aren't used in first year potions. Well, you're free to lay back down then." She waved her wand over him a few times, nodding to herself. "Everything seems to be in working order. You should be able to go to breakfast in the morning. Tell me if anything new, anything at all, starts to happen? Toes start glowing, stomach starts to hurt, that sort of thing," she said idly, fighting a yawn.

Draco bristled at the insult to his potion-making abilities but laid back down, nodding innocently.

She mistook his slight look of irritation. "I could offer you some dreamless sleep potion, if the headache is persistent?" she asked as she stood, preparing to blow out the candles.

He shook his head, rolling over. "I'm fine," he said simply. She nodded and blew out the last couple candles, carrying her own with her to the end of the room and into her office.

Draco sat up as soon as she was gone, looking around. The room was empty, except for one bed that had its curtains drawn. He turned to Harry's sleeping form, frowning in thought.

He no longer felt very tired, but in his mind he went over the potions he had been practicing before Christmas break. It had probably been Draught of the Living Death. He'd thought those fumes were the wrong shade of purple, no wonder they'd made him feel a bit ill.

Glancing around at the dark shadows on the walls, the blond fell back on to his pillow, exhaling deeply and letting his eyes drift closed.

* * *

Harry woke up with a jump, his scar searing a bit in pain. He winced, eyes narrowed against the light, and clutched his forehead.

"Scar hurting?" Draco inquired.

Harry jumped again, this time almost knocking over his seat. He moved his hand away from his forehead, smiling as the stab of pain faded. "You're awake!" he declared cheerfully.

The blond smiled wryly, dark shadows remaining under his eyes. He looked rather pale, with bloodshot eyes. "Yes, quite. It was just a sleeping potion," Draco said dismissively.

"Who gave you a sleeping potion?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I was making one myself before we left," Draco said after checking to make sure Madam Pomphrey wasn't in the room. "Must have accidentally inhaled something a little too deeply."

Harry nodded. "Oh, I see." He looked to the clock on the wall, pressing his lips together. "Well I'm not sure when you're allowed to leave, but we have Quidditch in-"

Draco leapt from his bed, eyes wide. "Let's go!" he cried.

Harry glanced anxiously back toward the door of the Healer's study and cast an abrupt charm on the blond that Draco didn't immediately recognize. It felt a bit like his face was being scrubbed roughly with a soft rag, then faded.

Madam Pomphrey dashed out of her study, eyes narrowed as she approached the two, shaking her head.

"Wait, wait just one moment," she snapped. "Trying to run off for Quidditch, surely going to come back with a broken limb or two," she muttered under her breath as she waved her wand over the boy, frowning in thought.

"Can I go now?" Draco asked impatiently.

Madam Pomphrey shook her head, frowning. "You should take it easy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to sit out this match, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco deflated. "You can't do-"

"Please, Madam Pomphrey? He looks so much better, and we really can't play without a Chaser. It's too early in the season for us to have all of the backup players set-up!" Harry pleaded, green eyes round and innocent.

That was, in all truth, a bit of a lie. They did have one Chaser back-up, which was all they'd need if Draco needed to sit out a match. But it was true they didn't have _all_ of them.

The Healer frowned softly, looking over the Malfoy heir once again. She opened up her mouth and began to shake her head and Harry sent her the most pitiful look he could manage, soft green eyes wide and eyebrows drawn inward with intense sadness.

"Well, I suppose he is looking quite a bit better," she said hesitantly. "It was just a sleeping potion."

Draco put on his best hopeful look, adding in a slight chin wobble for affect.

Madam Pomphrey sighed, shaking her head. "All right, all right. But you must take it easy. I swear if you come back with a cracked skull, or-"

"Thanks Madam Pomphrey!" Harry chirped, dashing out of the hospital wing with Draco at his heels.

* * *

"You look a fright, I'm not sure how to make that spell last any longer than it already has," Harry informed him as the two headed to breakfast before Quidditch.

"What? Spell?"

Harry nodded without looking back. "I just thought it might help our cause if you didn't look like you'd just been poisoned, so I may have, helped us along a bit, with a freshening up spell," he said innocently.

Draco laughed, smiling despite his slight headache before suddenly what the other boy said registered completely. Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt outside of the Great Hall.

"I look _a fright_?"

"Yes, can I borrow your scarf before you go?"

"_A fright?_"

* * *

Draco, having chosen to skip out on breakfast before he made himself look presentable, raced up the moving staircases to the pitch.

Harry was waiting for him just by the door, and handed him a piece of toast. "Eat," he demanded.

Draco glared at him. "We don't have time for-"

"Eat or you'll pass out on the field and Madam Pomphrey will obliterate me!"

Draco groaned, taking a bite of the toast begrudgingly and stomping out toward the field with a very pleased-with-himself Harry following suit. As he swallowed, warmth blossomed in his chest and spread through his limbs, his body humming with appreciation. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was.

Adrian was excited to see the two, waving eagerly. "Glad you're all right," he said with a smile to the blond Slytherin, who nodded in response. Harry smiled back and Draco finished off his toast, doing his best to still look grumpy about it.

"Is that Professor Snape?" Draco asked suddenly, eyes narrowed as he looked across the field.

Adrian nodded. "He opted to referee this match. Weird, isn't it? Always got the feeling he hated Quidditch - or everything but Potions, for that matter."

Draco ignored him, looking over to Harry with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned at his friend's thinking look, but just then, the match was called to start.

The boys took up their posts and mounted their brooms.

The game began.

* * *

"Was that - did he - _seriously_?"

"_Is this a joke?_"

Harry stared down at the Snitch in his hand as disbelief swept through the speechless crowd, snarls of disbelief emanating off the Ravenclaw team.

Cheers, louder than he was sure had ever been recorded from the Slytherins, erupted from the green and silver stands. Hermione clapped too, smiling brightly from the Gryffindor stands as Seamus Finnigan, Ronald Weasley and some of the other Gryffindors shot her angry glares.

His team swarmed around him, buzzing with glee so loud it drowned out the resentment of the Ravenclaws across the field entirely.

"That was _four bloody minutes_, Harry!" Adrian shouted, being the first to reach him. He patted the other boy solidly on the back, a face-splitting toothy grin spread across his features.

"Way to end the only game for the month in a record amount of time," Draco drawled. Harry looked up from his snitch at once, a small smile tugging up one corner of his lips at the smirk on the blond's face.

Harry began to laugh, and suddenly everyone was joining in. Harry's face was red, and he could barely breathe, but he laughed because he was sure if he didn't the feelings of absolute wonder and joy would make him explode.

Flint even cracked a toothy grin, giving a short bark of laughter. He shook his head, stalking toward the building without a word. The team began to hesitantly follow, each person towing Harry along with them.

"You've just set a _world record."_

"No, no, remember that one guy who-"

"-Who cares? Shut up! Harry, are you going to be a professional Quidditch player when you're older?"

"-my Dad knows the Captain of the Chudley Cannons, and-"

"-the Cannons? They're rubbish! Potter, you really ought to look into-"

"Bloody hell, we just won without anyone scoring a single thing-"

"Am I the only one a little disappointed that I was only in the air for four minutes?"

"Oh stuff it you swine, we just-"

Harry shook his head, gasping for breath ever so slightly as he walked, in a daze, toward the changing room.

"That was brilliant Harry," Draco said, smiling over at the other boy. "The look on their faces, you should have seen it. Their Seeker hadn't even seen the Snitch by the time you had it."

Harry laughed, nodding then shaking his head, not sure how to answer or react. "I - yeah - oh it was.. it was a rush."

Draco laughed in response, and the duo shifted away from the now noisily disputing crowd - what team Harry should join, who he should share his free tickets with when he's famous - and trailed slowly behind. Harry took in a few deep breaths, the cold air's sting feeling oddly pleasant against his lungs.

"You know, I'm supposed to be rightfully devastated that Ravenclaw is statistically unlikely to win a single match against Slytherin for the next seven years, but Harry you should have seen yourself," Stephen's voice greeted the two as he approached.

"So I've been told," Harry said faintly, smiling at the sky and letting his eyes drift closed.

"How did you do it?" Stephen demanded.

Harry laughed. "I think I was spurned by the horrible fear of what Madam Pomphrey would do to me if I let Draco fly in his condition," he teased very seriously.

Draco shook his head. "He's been flying like that all break."

"Not surprising, your Dad was one of the best flyers Hogwarts ever had too," Stephen said, clearly torn between frustration for his House and happiness for his friend.

Harry opened his eyes, turning to face the boy. "He was?" he asked quietly.

Stephen nodded. "Chaser though. Funny how that works, I can't see you playing any other position than Seeker, anyway."

"Everyone seems to know more about my parents than I do," Harry said, frowning.

"Well you could have just said something, Harry. There's lots of information to be found on them, at least from their time at Hogwarts," Stephen said. He looked back, a group of blue-clad boys waving him over whilst glaring at the Slytherins. "I've got to go, congratulations Harry," he said distractedly, patting the boy on the shoulder one final time before dashing off, after the other Ravenclaws as they headed for the castle.

"I'm sure one of my relatives has a picture of your grandmother somewhere, Harry. And probably some of your dad, when he was younger," Draco added as the two started their own walk back to the castle.

"I'd like to see those, if I could," Harry mumbled, staring at the ground.

"I'll owl Mom, she'll send some," Draco replied. He offered the boy another smile.

Harry blinked numbly for a few moments, before shooting the other boy a grateful smile.

* * *

"It's good to be back at Hogwarts," Harry said as they pushed open the doors to the castle, passing the changing room. They passed through the castle in silence, and Harry gave a quiet yawn as they headed up the steps toward the dorms from the common room.

"I think we should tail Quirrel tonight," Draco blurted as the two entered their dorm.

"What?" Harry asked, turning to look at the boy in surprise.

"With the cloak. We've got to find out where he's hiding that object, or what he's planning, or... at least... something!"

Harry blinked, before nodding enthusiastically as he processed his friend's words. "All right, yeah. It's not like he'll be expecting a couple of first years in an invisibility cloak. We've just got to be careful."

"When aren't we careful?" Draco replied, smiling. He headed over to Harry's trunk, pulling out the cloak.

"We're going now?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Of course. What if he just goes to sleep? We can't very well get up in the middle of the night and hope we run into him. We'll go to dinner and then we'll follow him out and slip on the cloak."

* * *

Harry and Draco trailed down the corridor toward the Great Hall, invisibility cloak folded away in Harry's bag.

"I'm starving," a voice groaned from behind. Ronald Weasley stomped passed the two boys, Seamus Finnigan at his tail. Draco glared heatedly at the two as they noisily cut in front of the two Slytherins and stomped into the hall, complaining loudly about the match.

"Slytherins are all bleeding cheaters, everyone knows that," Seamus said in response to something Ron said. He glared at the duo as they passed the Gryffindor table.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't waste your energy," he mumbled to Draco, who was curling his hands into fists, grey eyes flashing.

"Who do they think they are?" Draco spat as he threw himself into his seat.

"They're idiots, I thought this was established," Harry said dryly, taking his own seat next to him.

"Who? Gryffindors?" Pansy Parkinson spoke up from across the two.

Draco nodded. "They're over their groaning painfully about the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Rather bitter we've got claim to the Quidditch Cup for the year, I'd imagine."

"Don't let them get to you Draco," Pansy said soothingly.

Harry nodded in agreement with what Pansy was saying for once. Blaise rolled his eyes across from where the two sat, prodding his food on the table with his fork grumpily. He had received detention for being caught kicking Mrs. Norris - whom Filch had been very protective over since the disappearing accident - and hadn't been able to make the match. "Why are we even wasting our time talking about them?" he drawled. "Somebody tell me how we won, then?"

Draco nodded in agreement and launched into a detailed explanation of the match, embellishing a rather long tale of excitement and daring for a match that only lasted four minutes.

Harry looked up as Hermione walked over to the table, her cheeks red with what looked like fading anger. She smiled as Harry noticed her approach, and waved. Harry waved back welcomingly, and Pansy made a disgusted noise from where she sat.

"Harry, congratulations on the match," she said warmly. Harry beamed.

"Thanks!" he replied cheerfully, grinning. Draco looked over and spared the witch a glare before returning to his conversation with Blaise.

Hermione rolled her eyes discreetly at the blond's stretched tale. "And to you too, Draco," she said unenthusiastically. He politely ignored her in response, and she turned her gaze back to Harry, eyes wide. "Harry, I overheard something," she said in a low tone without much preamble. She was for once thankful of the Slytherins' attempts to ignore her very existence.

Harry blinked in thought, eyes widening as he registered what she must mean. It had to be about Quirrel. He elbowed Draco discreetly. The blond hissed mid-sentence, giving Blaise an apologetic look and turning an evil eye to Harry hatefully. Harry nodded toward the bushy-haired Gryffindor very seriously.

"I thought you both might want to know-"

Draco held up a hand to stop her, eyes flicking distrustfully to the now-interested eyes watching their conversation. Even Pansy had stopped her usual chattering with one of her friends to watch from the corner of her eye.

"Harry's the only one who needed help with the History of Magic homework," he said very boredly, returning to his food. "Now please, do leave us alone."

Hermione blinked, not understanding. The other Slytherins exchanged looks of disappointment that the conversation had not been more interesting, and returned to their own, a few stopping to give Hermione more unwelcoming glares.

Harry stood just as Hermione's expression began to morph to one of hurt, nodding toward the door of the Great Hall, understanding the message in Draco's words even if Hermione didn't. As he stood up, his scar seared in pain, and he clamped a hand angrily to his forehead, eyes pinching in pain. He unconsciously hissed out a curse in parseltongue that he had heard the elder snakes using.

None of the people around seemed to recognize it as anything more than an exclamation of pain. Harry nodded to the girl, gesturing toward the door. "Thanks for the help Hermione," he said unnecessarily loudly, fighting to ignore the urge to look to the Professors' table and see if Quirrel was watiching him as he suspected. "I really appreciate it. You know I'm rubbish at History of Magic."

The black-haired boy began to stride toward the exit and Hermione kept pace with him, seeming to catch on and nodding thoughtfully. "You wouldn't be if you just paid attention in class," she said in a lecturing tone as he shoved open one of the large doors.

* * *

Draco caught up with them by the time they had settled down into one of the icy, fenced-in gardens surrounding the castle. Hermione conjured another bluebell fire, setting it into a jar next to herself and nodding to the two very seriously.

"What's this about, then?" Draco said impatiently. "And Granger, do try not to go shouting off about things like that in the middle of the Great Hall next time."

* * *

**Sorry to end it there. But this chapter would have been too long if I hadn't. **

**Reviews are like water for a lost man in a desert who's fallen into anhidrosis!**

**Also, I love them. They make my entire day.**


	13. Marauding Maps

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Marauding Maps**

* * *

**Author's Note:** _So, we hit 100 favorites last chapter. And that's just - wow. Guys. We aren't even finished with first year yet. It's not a lot to some people but it's a ton to me. Thank you._

* * *

Hermione glared at the blond Slytherin. "I wasn't shouting-" she started hotly. Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but Harry stepped on his foot from where he sat on the bench next to him.

He repressed a smug smile as the blond cursed, grey eyes lighting up with pain and anger.

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry began sincerely. "What is it you heard?" he asked, leaning forward.

"I overheard Professor Snape threatening Professor Quirrel," she said without preamble.

Harry's eyes lit up and he turned to Draco, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. "It's exactly like we thought," he said eagerly, nodding. "Professor Snape knows!"

"When did you hear it?" Draco demanded, glare still frosty. Hermione returned the look, scowling.

"The first night I got back from break."

"Must have been when you were in the hospital wing," Harry mumbled dejectedly. Draco flushed, sighing impatiently.

Hermione frowned. "Why was he in the hospital wing?"

"Nevermind," Draco cut in, gritting his teeth. He didn't need the girl lecturing him about making dangerous potions. "So around what time was it? Dinner?"

Hermione flushed in embarrassment now, looking away. "Well, I mean, I sort of got lost after dinner on the staircases, so it may have been a little while after that," she mumbled.

"Hermione, were you out after hours?" Harry asked in a teasing tone of faux-horror.

She rolled her eyes, huffing. "It was entirely on accident. Anyway, I overheard, well, Professor Snape was sort of... asking Quirrel how to get past Fluffy," she said finally, drawing in her eyebrows with concern as she waited for the expected response to her statement.

Draco glared at her in disbelief at what she was insinuating. "Professor Snape is not trying to steal-"

"-The Philosopher's Stone," Hermione finished his sentence. "Yes, I also found out that's what he's after. I'm sure you both did too, though," she said, judging the looks on their faces.

Harry nodded. "What do you mean, he was asking Quirrel how to get past Fluffy?"

Hermione sighed. "I didn't know what to make of it either, Harry. He asked, very clearly, if Quirrel had figured out how to get past Hagrid's pet yet."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You misunderstood him, clearly."

Hermione glared. "What's there to misunderstand?" she snapped. "He tried cursing Harry off his broom-"

"-_What?_-" Harry cut in incredulously.

"-No, he did not," Draco said snappishly, eyes flashing. "That was Quirrel."

"So you _say,_" Hermione continued. "And now, he's running around late at night-"

"-Which he is allowed to do, as a teacher, and you aren't, _Granger,_" Draco snapped.

"And he's asking questions like that, and telling Quirrel things like "You don't want me for an enemy," and all I'm _saying_-"

"-Doesn't matter what you're saying, it's what you're insinuating," Draco said hotly, standing up from the bench. Harry's eyes darted between the two, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"-All I'm saying," Hermione continued loudly, glaring as she too got to her feet, "is that it looks awfully suspicious, and I think you're too blinded by _bias_ to think that _maybe,_ Malfoy, Professor Snape _isn't on our side_."

"Because he is on our side, and you're just reading _everything_ the wrong way because he's the only teacher who doesn't reward your _obnoxious_ habit of going into cardiac arrest every time you're called upon to answer a question in class."

Hermione's cheeks went very red, and she inhaled very sharply just as Harry stood up, green eyes flicking uncertainly between the two.

Hermione opened her mouth like she would like to say something before shaking her head and hastily beginning to gather up her things. Draco rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"Hermione," Harry said softly, frowning and shooting a short glare at Draco. "He didn't mean it," he said as she flung her things into her bag and pulled it over her shoulder.

"Yes, he did," she said shortly.

"I did," Draco said agreeably, nodding and setting his jaw.

Harry glared sharply at the blond. "Hermione, we really appreciate your help," he insisted as she began to stomp off, leaving a trail of footprints in the white snow.

"Good riddance," Draco sniffed. Harry took off after her, leaving his things with Draco who snarled indignantly.

"Hermione, listen," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away, glaring.

"Why are you friends with him?" she snapped, looking back to where the blond stood with arms crossed, glaring at the two of them.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "He was just upset that you were saying those things about Professor Snape," Harry insisted, ignoring the question.

Hermione's eyes flashed. "I was just telling you what I saw," she said shortly, looking to the doors of the castle.

Harry shifted to in between the castle and her, frowning apologetically. "I know, and I really appreciate it." The green-eyed Slytherin cast a searching glance over to Draco, who was stuffing his own things into his bag, knocking over some of Harry's things in the process. "Look, Draco can be a bit... I mean, I know he's rude to you," Harry said very quickly, "but, Hermione, I appreciate everything you've done," he said, looking back to the girl and smiling. "Was there anything else you overheard in the conversation?"

Hermione sighed, blowing out a long breath and nodding. "He said, well, Professor Quirrel said that he didn't know what Snape meant. And stuttered some. Snape cut him off, said something like Quirrel knew _exactly_ what he meant, and then left with some sort of line about Quirrel knowing where his loyalties lie," she said. "The whole thing was very dodgy, Harry, I just don't know if Professor Snape is quite as reliable as Draco would like to believe," she said softly.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He sent Hermione a cheerful smile. "Thank you, Hermione," he said warmly. "Really. Draco appreciates it too, he's just," Harry glanced over to the blond, who was now making his way over to the door behind the two, chin up and shoulders back as he glared. "He's Draco," Harry finished.

* * *

"I don't know how you stand her," Draco snarled. By the time he approached Harry's side, Hermione had retreated to the castle, still bristling with anger.

He glared at the black-haired boy, adjusting the strap to his bag on his shoulder. "Go get your things. We're going to go tail Quirrel. If Professor Snape is approaching him directly, it must mean he's dangerously close. Telling Professor Snape our suspicions now won't work either, clearly. He already has his own, and Dumbledore is probably ignoring them."

Harry absorbed all of this and nodded. "Professor Snape also apparently told Quirrel to remember where his loyalties lie," he said as he strode over to collect his things. Draco followed, nodding.

"Definitely sounds like it has to do with-with... Voldemort, then," the blond said, whispering Voldemort's name. For the first time on this subject, a flicker of fear lit in his eyes.

Harry nodded in agreement, frowned, and furrowed his eyebrows as he thought, pausing to scuff his foot in the snow.

"What do you think we should do, then?" Draco asked, looking up at the sky as the sun hid behind a cloud. It hung low in the sky, brushing the horizon orange and red.

"It's obvious isn't it?" Harry said, looking up from the ground. "We can't let Quirrel get away with it. Professor Snape can't help us, and if he can't, then Professor Dumbledore won't. You_ just_ said we should go tail Quirrel."

Draco blinked. "And?"

Harry leaned forward, snatching up Draco's bag from around his neck and pulled out his invisibility cloak, tossing the bag back to the blond as he shook it out of its folded square.

"We'll just have to do it on our own," Harry said firmly.

* * *

"You know, when I said we should go do it then, I was really just sort of angry and not thinking. I really don't see what good we're going to be doing. If Professor Snape knows, then-"

"Are you telling me you don't want to know exactly what he's up to, Draco?" Harry asked curiously as the boys maneuvered down the abandoned corridor under the cloak.

"Of course I do," Draco said in response, as if the question personally insulted him. "I just don't exactly know what our _plan_ is."

Harry shrugged. "We can't have a plan until we know what Quirrel's planning."

"That sounded very redundant," Draco complained.

"We really ought to learn how to put silencing spells on the cloak," Harry mumbled. "I tried, but the magic and wards already interwoven in it are very difficult to work with," he said, sighing.

"There are wards on it too?" Draco asked curiously. "Also, next time I want the front. I can't see anything past your head."

"Shh," Harry murmured as they turned a corner. Draco leaned to the left, peering around Harry's shoulder and through the front of the cloak.

Fred and George Weasley stood next to a few suits of armor that were in a row. Fred - the one who called himself George - was waving his wand and murmuring incantations over something in a box. George, on the other hand, was eagerly chatting up one of the suits of armor, trying to convince him to do something for him.

"Come on, be a mate, it won't hurt! We've practiced this all sorts of times," George said encouragingly.

"Yeah, honest!" Fred chirped, looking up from what he was working on. "Besides, guys, you're made of metal."

The suit of armor looked at them suspiciously, seemingly unsure. The tallest suit of armor shook his head, and the one the twins had been talking to shrugged apologetically, leaning back against the wall.

Draco sneered from behind the other Slytherin and Harry began to inch forward once again. As they walked past, Draco tugged on his robes, nodding toward where the boys sat.

Harry frowned, and Draco wordlessly tugged on his sleeve again, nodding more enthusiastically to the twins.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled and guided uncomfortably close to the Weasleys, who were very involved in what they were working on. Finally, the black-haired Slytherin's eyes alighted on what had gotten Draco's attention.

Fred looked up sharply, as if detecting something in the air. He pulled out his wand, touching it to the piece of parchment with words inscribed on it that Harry could not make out in the dark. Draco looked at the parchment curiously.

"Mischief managed," Fred whispered so softly that Harry would not have caught it had he been a foot farther away.

"What's that, my sweet? They're over here, you say?" Filch's nasally voice suddenly cut through the air. George spun around, and without a word began packing up their things, shoving them away.

"Aha!" Filch shouted as he rounded the bend. His eyes lit up with delight and a grin curled around the corners of his lips.

* * *

Fred and George eyed each other quickly. Draco, taking advantage of their momentary pause, stepped on the piece of parchment next to the boys with just the edge of his foot. He dragged it across the floor and underneath the Cloak.

Fred noticed the movement. His eyes grew wide with shock, disbelief, horror and a hint of anger, but before he had a chance to react Filch was walking forward, snarling.

"_You_ two. I _knew_ it," he wheezed, laughing giddily.

"I'm sorry Filchy-"

"-you seem a bit lost-"

"-is there something you need?" the boys asked innocently. Fred could barely keep the stiffness out of his tone as he discreetly inched toward where the parchment had disappeared.

Filch's laughter turned to a glare. "I told my Mrs. Norris, you see, I told her to sniff out the vermin who had kidnapped her. And aha! Would you look at where she leads me, straight to _you_ two-"

Draco leaned over underneath the cloak, picking up the parchment he had dragged over and stuffing it in his pocket. Harry began to walk away as quickly as he could without making a sound, and Draco followed suit.

Mrs. Norris hissed, turning to face the invisibly retreating duo.

Harry and Draco took off simultaneously, the cloak still dutifully hiding them from view. Filch didn't notice his cat's fury, and was relishing having caught the twins.

He was clearly quite sure they were the ones who had "kidnapped" Mrs. Norris, and was shouting off about how he'd hang them by their toes. Apparently, if nothing else, they were out of bed past hours.

Draco and Harry did not stop running until they reached the top of the steps and were relieved to find that Mrs. Norris had not pursued them.

"What do you have there?" Harry asked curiously, leaning forward to see what Draco had been so desperate to snatch from the twins.

"I have no idea," Draco responded cheerfully. He gently touched his hand to the parchment. "But by the look on that one's face, this is something important."

Harry opened his mouth to protest and Draco's eyes gleamed as he ran his fingers over the edge of the old piece of parchment. It was not so old as to be fragile, but it was clearly well-used and loved.

Before Harry could voice his concern, Draco looked up, smacking a hand over the protesting boy's mouth. He pointed with his other that had the parchment crumpled in it, to where Professor Snape stood, nostrils flaring, glaring down at Professor Quirrel.

Harry did not see, though, and had swatted his friend's hand away angrily. "What was _that-_" he began to hiss, only to have Draco step furiously on his foot and attempt to cover his mouth again with both hands.

It was too late, however. Both Professors looked up from whatever conversation they had been invested in. Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. Professor Quirrel's usually timid expression was momentarily replaced by one of heavy amusement, the sides of his mouth curling up into a grin that was gone in an instant.

* * *

"Come out," Snape's cold, monotone voice demanded.

Harry swallowed hard at the dark, furious look in the Potions Master's eyes. He took an involuntary step back, stepping into Draco. This caused their feet to scuff, creating more noise.

Snape stepped toward them, lips set in a thin line. He did not seem to forget Professor Quirrel however, his gaze flicking back to make sure the man in the turban was not making an escape.

Professor Quirrel made a nervous titter and stepped forward as well, his expression one of concern. "St-Students out of b-bed?" he stuttered, visibly shaking as Snape pinned him with a vicious glare.

Professor Snape paused, nostrils flaring. He slowly let his eyes drift closed as if something occurred to them.

"It's most likely just the poltergeist," he said suddenly, turning away from where Draco and Harry stood, rooted to the spot in fear of making more noise.

Professor Quirrel laughed, shaking as he stepped around Professor Snape. "Y-Yes, of course, of course," he said softly, his expression one of complete terror as Snape analyzed him with his black gaze. "Th-That poltergeist, a-always causing m-mischief." He looked over to the other wizard very innocently. "Been k-keeping me up at night," he said with a quivering laugh. "W-Walking around the castle t-trying to find out wh-what the ruckus is."

Snape's jaw visibly clenched, his hand drifting almost subconsciously to where his wand rested in his robe pockets. He leaned forward, and Quirrel flinched back, away from the intimidating man.

"Certainly," he said, his voice laced with quiet, deadly sarcasm. "Well, then, our rooms are in the same direction, we might as well take a walk back there together. _Unless,_ of course, you had other plans, Professor Quirrel?"

Quirrel looked very pale, Draco noted for the first time. An unusual, sickly pale. Not like the kind he got from fear, though that more than likely accentuated it.

No, he looked sickly. The man in turban nodded very jerkily. "I - ah, of c-course not," he said with a tone of such terror and innocence, that Harry found it easy to see where Hermione had gotten her suspicions from.

Harry began to follow after them, but Draco shook his head, grabbing Harry by the shoulder.

The green-eyed boy glared at the other, nodding insistently toward the professors retreating forms. Draco merely shook his head again.

When they were a fair distance away, Draco spoke in a very soft tone: "We can't follow them anymore. Don't worry though, Professor Snape has his eye on Quirrel, I think he stopped whatever plan he had for the night. He was heading _away_ from the fifth floor corridor, however, did you notice that?" Draco said.

Harry turned, now beginning to descend back toward the Slytherin common room. Draco followed. The black-haired wizard cast his friend a hesitant look, before opening and closing his mouth, clearing his throat, and sighing.

"What if Hermione was right, Draco?" he managed finally.

Draco stopped walking, his grey eyes hardening and his posture going very stiff. "About?"

Harry shrugged a little and Draco gave the painting the password, stepping inside. "I just mean, Professor Snape _did_ look-"

"It's not Professor Snape," Draco said with finality as the walked up the steps to their dorm.

Harry sighed a little, pulling the cloak off of the both of them, carefully folding it up again. He pushed open the door to their shared dorm, holding it open as the blond stepped through and letting it fall closed. "All right. Fine."

"Did something seem off about Professor Quirrel to you?" Draco asked, now firmly closing the subject.

Harry nodded. "He seemed.. sick."

"Did your scar hurt this time when we saw him?"

The black-haired Slytherin frowned in thought before shaking his head. "No, actually, I didn't notice but you're right. I didn't feel anything."

Draco nodded. "I thought so. He seemed weak, sick. And he was trying to leave the castle, I think."

"Why do you think that?" Harry asked.

"He was dressed warmly and he was near an exit," the grey-eyed boy replied.

"Perhaps he was going to see Hagrid?" Harry suggested, walking over to his bed and laying down with a sigh.

Draco opened his mouth as if to protest before snapping it closed, nodding thoughtfully. "That's very possible," he said finally, looking into the distance in thought.

"We could go ask Hagrid tomorrow," Harry suggested.

Draco frowned. He huffed for a second, as if deep in thought, before giving a stiff nod that Harry couldn't see. "All right. We'll ask him if Professor Quirrel's been to visit him recently."

Harry nodded, his eyes drifting closed as he realized how truly tired he was. "Sounds like a plan," he murmured, sighing.

Draco pulled off his shoes and headed into the bathroom to ready for bed, blowing out a candle as he went.

* * *

_Harry was up high on his broom, the wind ruffling his hair. He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift closed. He held tight to his broom and shot downward into a dive. He did a corkscrew loop, a laugh escaping his lips._

_To his right, in a crevice in the wall of a castle, was some sort of nest. Harry took his broom in its direction, eyes peering curiously inside. As he neared the nest, a medium-sized blur of a bird flew into vision and made a beeline toward him._

_He narrowly dodged the bird, which was making a strange, sharp sound and moved away from the nest, quickly guessing the animal's reason for aggression._

_The bird, somehow, had recovered from its dive and went after Harry even as he moved away from the nest. Harry froze in place as it hovered in front of him._

_The animal tilted its head._

_He was an impressive bird. Not overly huge, with a slightly larger than three foot wingspan. He had slate wings and a pale underbelly, a white face with black stripes on each cheek. His eyes were large, and at first glance, dark._

_They then flashed into a brilliant green color, blinding. The bird launched forward, its green eyes blazing and blasting out all of Harry's vision into flashing green light._

_A woman's scream pierced his eardrums and there was a ferocious sting as the bird, surely, attacked him-_

"-Harry. Harry get _up_ we have Quidditch practice and we both slept in," Draco's voice cut through Harry's dream and startled him into consciousness, gasping for breath and sitting upright. The dream began to slip away almost immediately, fading like a fragile memory.

Harry fumbled for his glasses, wiping them on his shirt and pushing them on to his face. "Great, let's go!" he said cheerfully at the thought of flying.

"Were you having a bad dream?" Draco asked suddenly, pulling away from the other boy's bed and frowning.

Harry frowned in return, and furrowed his eyebrows. A dream clawed at the edges of his mind, and he closed his eyes, sucking on his teeth before shaking his head.

"I don't know," he said finally, green eyes popping open. He shrugged. "Did I sound like I was?" he asked as he stood, brushing off his clothes from yesterday.

Draco paused. "A bit," he said finally, turning to his wardrobe.

Harry groaned as he glanced at the clock. "Flint is going to kick us off the team."

Draco snorted. "He'll be fine. You've been winning his games, Harry, and he knows it. He won't throw out a good thing. It was an empty threat to ensure you showed up for practice, and to intimidate you."

"You think?" Harry asked hopefully as he snatched up his Quidditch outfit, heading for the bathroom.

Draco shook his head. "I know," he corrected. Harry closed the door behind him and Draco proceeded to hastily throw on his clothes in the bedroom, readying his hair with a few spells in front of the mirror in his wardrobe.

"Did we miss breakfast?" Harry asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Yes," Draco said briskly. "And our chance to talk to the... _gamekeeper._ Unfortunately." Draco sneered.

Harry frowned in confusion at Draco's hostility toward Hagrid's job, but shrugged it off. "We'll just have to talk to him after dinner," the black-haired wizard responded. He headed over to his trunk and pulled out his cloak, tossing it over to Draco who placed it in his bag.

"I've been practicing my parseltongue," Draco said cheerfully. "I think we should come up with some sort of written language for it. Do you think we could do that?"

Harry paused, frowning. "Well," he began slowly. "I suppose so, I mean, I don't see why not," he said finally, shrugging.

Draco beamed cheerfully and pulled open the door to their dorm, hopping down the steps. Harry followed after him hurriedly.

* * *

"No, no, Draco it says just _three_ stirs clockwise," Harry corrected as he leaned over his Potions book, glancing up to see the other boy stirring over their cauldron.

The blond nodded, stopping at three stirs. Harry leaned over, wand raised, and waved it carefully over the potion.

"And now?" Draco asked curiously, tugging his own Potions book into his lap and flipping to the correct page.

"We wait," Harry answered even as Draco read it for himself. The blond wizard nodded, setting the book back down on the table and peering into their cauldron. The potion was a light cyan color, looking smooth in consistency. He nodded to himself, pleased with their progress, and peered around the classroom.

None of the other students had seemed to reach the waiting period Harry and he had. He smiled smugly to himself in acknowledgement of that.

Ronald Weasley groaned from across the room. "I forgot," he said miserably to Seamus Finnigan, who sat on his left. Seamus groaned in response and flicked open his book in frustration.

Draco sniggered, and Harry peered around him in interest, watching the scene curiously.

"Harry," Draco said suddenly in a low voice, grabbing the other boy's attention. Harry flicked his green eyes back to the blond, gazing expectantly. Draco looked around once more to make sure all of the students around them - especially the Slytherins and Weasley - were focused on their work. Satisfied that they were, he reached into his bag and retrieved the piece of parchment from the other night.

Harry's eyes lit up. "Oh! I had been meaning to ask you about that," he said in a normal volume. Draco glared at him as Pansy looked up curiously from in front of them, turning around a bit in her seat to look.

Neville Longbottom squeaked from the front of the class, gasping in pain as if something had burned him. Pansy turned her attention to him and Snape - who was sneering and slowly explaining to the dense boy what had happened.

Draco rolled his eyes. The potion they were brewing wasn't even supposed to be hot, if made correctly. Nonetheless, he was thankful for the distraction Longbottom provided. He slid the parchment up on to the table discreetly, nodding to it.

"It's magical," Draco began.

"I figured. What does it do?" Harry asked excitedly.

"I think it's a map," Draco responded. "That's what it was. Then, Weasley said "mischief managed," and turned his wand to it. Then everything disappeared. I've been trying to talk it into telling me how to open it, and I've not had much luck."

"Talk it into it?" Harry asked curiously, pulling the paper toward himself curiously.

Draco nodded. "It's a bit like a painting, I think. It holds the memory of four people. I spoke to it some last night."

"What did it say?" Harry murmured, running his fingers along the edge of the parchment. He pulled out his own wand, hovering it over the parchment.

Draco sighed. "Nothing much useful. I tried saying mischief managed, and it sort of flickered to life. Told me I had it backwards, or something. It also told me its name. Or, their names," he said. "They spoke in turns."

"So they didn't tell you how to open it?" Harry asked curiously, frowning at the parchment.

Draco shook his head.

"Did you recognize the names?" he asked, glancing up at the grey-eyed boy.

"No, they weren't real names, anyway."

Harry frowned, looking down at the parchment. "What were they?"

"Made-up names? Prongs and Wormy or something, weird things like that," Draco said flippantly. "They called themselves the Marauders. And a marauder is a sort of thief, or pirate. Someone who steals, or plunders. I'm not really sure what to take from that," he thought aloud, gazing at the ceiling in thought.

Harry tapped the parchment with his wand. "Hello... Prongs?" he said to the parchment.

It remained utterly blank, almost in a mocking fashion. Harry frowned. "What did you say Fred said to it?"

"Mischief managed."

Harry nodded. "I would like to cause mischief?" he asked the parchment in a hopeful - however, still too quiet for any curious ears in the class to hear - tone.

To Draco's delight, a softly scrawled note appeared on the paper.

_Mr. Prongs would like to suggest you to say that more confidently._

"_Brilliant_, of course Harry," Draco said eagerly, beaming down at the parchment as the writing faded away. "You tell it when you're done using it - mischief managed - but you also have to tell it when you _want_ to use it. Brilliant. There must be a specific phrase," he rambled in a whispering voice, snapping up the piece of parchment and grinning at it.

"It must be something more special than a map, if someone went to all this trouble protecting it with magical phrases. And if the Weasley twins had it," Harry mused aloud.

Draco nodded enthusiastically before pausing, and peering over at the clock in the front of the classroom. "We need to finish the potion," he said distractedly, and stuffed the piece of parchment back into his bag. "We'll work on this more later."

* * *

**A review? The support is invaluable to me.**


	14. Advanced Potions

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Advanced Potions**

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Happy New Years and happy late Christmas guys.. I'm so sorry I took so long to get this out. I was just seriously lacking inspiration the past few, err, weeks (oops). Even now I'm not so sure this is good enough to post, but you guys deserve something, at least. Cheers and thank you so so much for all of the support!_

* * *

"I swear, I'm mischievous," Harry pleaded with the map. "I plan to do all sorts of mischievous things. I will do nothing good with this knowledge you will bestow me. Only maraud things."

Draco hummed, tapping his quill lightly on his parchment. "What's the brightest star in the night sky?" he asked, looking up.

"Sirius," Harry mumbled grumpily, setting the parchment aside.

Draco nodded. "I knew that," he said as an after-thought, dotting the final "i" on his paper. He stood up, stretching sleepily and glancing over at the clock on their left. "Anymore hints from the parchment?" he asked curiously.

"_I don't believe you_, from Padfoot, and _Try harder, _from Moony. I'm starting to think this is an elaborate prank by the twins," he grumped, twirling his wand in his hands. He wanted a dartboard. He'd have to buy one. "Are there magical dartboards?" he asked suddenly, sitting upright.

Draco blinked at him. "Uh, yes," he said finally. "That was a little off-subject."

Harry glared at him. "You try talking a snarky piece of parchment into the fact that you're up to no good, and see if you're.. on-subject," he sniped poorly in response, rolling over and planting his face into his pillow. He sighed and spread out his arms to the side sleepily.

Draco shrugged. He yawned, rubbing at one eye with his knuckle and rolled up his Astronomy parchment, lacing it up and tucking it away in his bag.

"Are we going to see Hagrid tomorrow morning?" Harry asked sleepily as Draco blew out a candle.

"Oh, right, that. I forgot. I'm taking a private, more advanced Potions lesson tomorrow. I can't," Draco said, shuffling into bed with a yawn.

"A private Potions lesson?" Harry demanded, sitting upright in bed and glaring at the blond accusingly.

"Yes."

"Why wasn't I invited?"

Draco slowly opened his tired eyes and looked over at the green-eyed Slytherin, staring for a good sixty seconds.

"Harry. You hate Potions."

Harry threw up his hands and gave a garbled, gibberish response. "So?" he said finally.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes and laying back down, suppressing a yawn. "Would you like to come to my advanced Potions lesson, Harry?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"I - yes," Harry said defiantly.

"Brilliant."

"Who's teaching it?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape. Who else?"

Harry groaned and laid back on his pillow. After a moment of mutterings and debating on backing out, he leaned over and blew out his own candle, fingertips brushing the edge of the blank parchment.

* * *

"Get up!"

Harry opened his eyes to find some sort of cloth laid across his face. He sat up and his robes fell off of his face and into his lap. He stared at them curiously.

"Clothes. They're called clothes Harry. We're going to be late," Draco hissed as he fumbled through his own wardrobe.

"Oh."

"I will leave you. I swear to Salazar-"

"I'm going I'm going!" Harry yelped, springing to his feet and swaying unsteadily for a moment as his vision fizzled. He grabbed up the robes that Draco had given him and darted for the bathroom, wand in hand.

After a quick shower he did a few freshening up charms - which if he did say so himself, got better every time.

"_ARE YOU DONE?_" Draco's enraged yell reached him from behind the bathroom door. Harry rolled his eyes and yanked it open.

"Fantastic, let's go," the blond said shortly, huffing and turning on his heel. Harry darted after him, stuffing his wand into his robe pockets.

* * *

"Professor Snape doesn't like me," Harry muttered.

Draco paused, looking as if he might like to protest that before shrugging and nodding. "A bit, yeah. But he can change his opinion of people," he said in an encouraging tone.

Harry sighed. "Don't know how you talked me into this," he grumbled.

"Shut up. You asked to come."

Harry let out a noisy groan. He pulled out the parchment.

"I will only use this knowledge to escape Potions class," he tried.

Writing slowly began to scrawl across the parchment. Draco stopped, a look of excitement spread across his features as he leaned over Harry's shoulder.

_Messr Prongs would like to register that this is a very reasonable request._

_But Moony is forced to remind him that it is not the correct phrase._

_Padfoot is seconding Prongs' motion._

_Wormtail agrees with Padfoot and Prongs._

_No._

The writing faded.

"Do you think we can actually convince them to open it without the phrase?" Harry asked eagerly.

Draco thought it over. "No. I don't get the feeling Moony is the leader. If three of them were for opening it and it still didn't, I don't think it can. But I do think they can give us more hints."

"Do you think that was close?" Harry asked curiously, tucking the parchment away again.

"No. I think they just don't like Potions."

"Ah, something we have in common," Harry said proudly with a nod.

Draco rolled his eyes and continued down the hall toward the Potions classroom.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy and... ah, Mr. _Potter_," Professor Snape's cold drawl reached every corner of the dungeon classroom. Harry shivered, looking away from his dark glare. "May I ask, Mr. Malfoy, why is it Mr. Potter can't survive in your absence for a single hour?" He sneered.

Harry's cheeks warmed."It's not that, it's-"

Snape raised an eyebrow expectantly and Draco resisted the urge to snicker as he shifted anxiously in place.

"-I really wanted to learn more about Potions, sir," Harry insisted, nodding.

Snape pinned him with a look that said he didn't believe a single word of what he had just said. Harry swallowed harshly.

"Take your seats," the Potions Master snapped unexpectedly, spinning around and walking toward the front of the classroom.

Draco smiled at him encouragingly and moved toward their usual seat. Harry paused, momentarily at a loss as to how he had passed the silent test - or if he had even passed at all - before rushing over to his own seat and sitting down, pulling out his Potions book.

Draco shook his head, so Harry quickly tucked it away. Snape passed their desks, leaving two new Advanced Potions books in front of them.

"Turn to page two-hundred and thiry-seven."

* * *

"Next, add the Boomslang skin," Harry murmured under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at the Potions book. He looked anxiously over his own potion.

It bubbled politely up at him as he peered into the cauldron, a clear-violet color at this time. He smiled at it, silently thanking Merlin for his good luck.

Snape would sweep by every few minutes to criticize Harry viciously and encourage Draco. Draco insisted this was because different students learn different ways. Harry tried harder when he felt people had low expectations of him, according to Draco.

Harry still thought he wouldn't mind if Snape used the "positive reinforcement" technique he seemed to have adopted with the other Slytherin.

He looked over his ingredients before a small frown turned down the corners of his lips. He looked up only to find that Snape had already begun his habit of sweeping past.

"You're missing Boomslang skin," he said with a hint of accusation.

Harry flushed.

"As am I, Professor," Draco cut in, frowning at his potion.

"Go and fetch it from the cupboard, then," Snape said dismissively to the black-haired Slytherin.

Harry frowned, glaring at the blond who smiled back at him. Why didn't _Draco _have to go get the skin?

Sighing, he opened his old Potions book and found the picture of Boomslang, making a mental note and headed off toward the classroom door, turning a corner toward the door he thought led to the cupboard.

It ended up being the wrong door. Apparently, the door to the left led to a restroom. And when going out the back door, one ended up on the second floor.

Cursing his bad luck and Hogwarts, Harry darted down the steps again, face burning in embarrassment. He tossed on his invisibility cloak to avoid getting yelled at by Filch for - existing, breathing in the halls, whatever his new rule was - and made his way back into the dungeons.

He finally found the door to the ingredients cupboard, pushing it open delicately and maneuvering his way inside. He looked around at the rows upon rows of vials and bags, humming to himself.

They were all numbered. In hindsight, it might have been easier just asking Professor Snape which number Boomslang skin was.

Harry scoffed as he thought of the sneer he would have surely received in response and decided no, this was better. He hummed as he moved down the aisle, pulling out a bag of the skin with a slight victory cry.

He stuffed the whole thing into his robe pockets, not sure how much he'd be needing, and headed out of the cupboard, closing the door quietly behind him.

As he headed back toward the classroom, he noted Professor McGonagall standing next to Professor Snape just a little ways away from the classroom door, whispering urgently to each other.

The Slytherin gnawed his lip, considering creeping back into the classroom unnoticed.

But, if Snape _did_ notice him, he'd confiscate his Invisibility Cloak for sure.

"-_Quirrel_-"

Harry stopped in his tracks, having just about to have made the backway into the classroom.

Either the Professors were having a very serious discussion about rodents, or they were talking about Professor Quirrel.

Harry darted closer without a second thought, thanking Merlin for his cloak. A small, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his eyes lit up as he listened in, just a foot away.

"-Severus, you know I trust Professor Dumbledore's judgement," the Transfiguration Professor insisted, face pale with worry. "I admit that there is something strange-"

"-The unicorns dying, Minerva? And the way he sneaks about, late into the night. His mysterious disappearance before showing up, declaring that his real passion was teaching? We both knew this man, and Quirrel is not the same as he once was."

Professor McGonagall hesitated. "I know what you are suggesting, Severus, but-"

"-I am not suggesting. I am telling you," Snape replied, dark eyes flashing in anger. His hand seemed to run subconsciously over his left forearm and Minerva shuddered.

Professor McGonagall looked away, letting out a slow sigh. "What do you suggest we do, then?" she asked finally.

Snape's face softened into the closest thing Harry had ever seen to happiness. "We tail him," he said coolly. "That is all. We find out where exactly he goes on his late night walks. And we go from there. If there is nothing at all suspicious to you about it Minerva then we will leave it at that."

"You're serious about this," McGonagall said hoarsely, eyes round with horror.

His expression hardened. "Tonight. He is getting weaker, he will be needing it soon."

Her expression morphed to one of horror. "If he is out there tonight, Severus, and it is as you said - Hagrid is taking a first year into the Forest tonight for detention!"

The Potions Master's eyes widened minutely. "We will tell him not to, postpone it to another night," he snarled.

"You think I have not already tried? I told Albus and he insisted that the students were perfectly safe with Hagrid. I would not have the students in the forest at _any_ time."

"Then we go tonight," Snape snapped.

Harry's eyes flew wide and he took a few steps back as everything he had heard registered.

_I have to get us in detention,_ Harry thought firmly. He stepped back as the Professors ended their conversation, Professor Snape pushing open the door to his classroom. Harry stayed just outside the door until it closed. He hummed, tapping out each second with his fingers as he counted to four-hundred.

If he entered too soon after, Professor Snape would know he had overheard. And maybe if he was especially late, Snape would give him detention.

He pulled out his parchment to help the time pass. "I swear, I am up to mischief," he whispered.

_Prongs would like to register that you are getting very close. Maybe if you were a little more solemn.._

_Padfoot would like to add that Prongs should shut his trap and stop giving away our secrets so readily._

_Prongs would like to say that Padfoot is a git._

The writing stopped once more, and Harry smiled.

Tucking the parchment away and pulling off his cloak, Harry entered the dungeon classroom once more.

* * *

"Did you get lost?" Draco asked with a playful smirk as he looked up at the green-eyed Slytherin.

Harry did his best to look sheepish, and Draco narrowed his eyes at the other's obvious impatient excitement. "Yeah. Did you know if you go in a bathroom to the left and out the back door, you wind up on the second floor?" he asked curiously, walking the length of the classroom and sitting down.

_How to get detention, how to get detention,_ Harry thought frantically. He looked at Professor Snape, who was narrowing his eyes at him but had yet to say a word.

Harry knocked over his own cauldron with a dramatic, 'whoops!'.

Draco stared at him blankly.

"Clean it up," Professor Snape snapped, looking up from his desk sharply before returning to the paper he was focused on.

Harry scowled. Leaning over, he cast a quick scourgify and picked up his cauldron, setting it back on the table.

"What is the matter with you?" Draco whispered, glaring at him.

Harry shoved over his cauldron this time.

"OY!" Draco shouted, standing up with a look of horror.

"WHOOPS!" Harry shouted as loudly as he could.

"_Detention_, Mr. Potter. Can you not control your own limbs?" Professor Snape snarled without thinking as he stood up, nostrils flaring in rage.

Seemingly realizing what he had just said, Snape paused, a look of calculating fury on his cold features. He exhaled deeply, before seeming to come to some internal decision and nodding, sitting back down.

_I can't believe he's okay with letting me go out in the forest tonight,_ Harry thought, jaw dropping in offense.

"Get out, you're done," Professor Snape snarled at him, as if it were obvious.

Harry nodded mutely but didn't move, staring at Draco.

Draco had to get detention too.

But, Snape wouldn't give him detention.

"_Are you deaf?_ I said. Get. Out," Snape reiterated slowly.

Draco glared at him hatefully, nodding his agreement as he spelled up the mess from his potion and miserably stared at his empty cauldron.

Harry turned for the exit alone, musing over how to get his friend in detention with him just as the blond glanced up at the clock. Professor Snape followed his line of vision.

"We will continue this lesson tomorrow. Mr. Malfoy. Next time, you will leave your lapdog somewhere else," he said with one last sneer.

Draco nodded mutely, getting to his feet and stomping his way out of the classroom.

"What in Salazar's name was that for _Potter_?" Draco snarled when the classroom door had shut behind him.

Harry turned to him, green eyes lit with excitement. "You need to get detention!"

Draco's pale cheeks reddened with anger. "You need to go to hell," he snapped back, hands clenching into fists.

Harry shook his head. "No, no, don't you see, we both do!"

"I don't need to go everywhere that you do you idiotic git," he snapped. "Leave me alone. And you owe me a potion, also I hate you," he ranted, stomping off ahead of the other, his anger clearly beginning to dissipate.

Harry smiled, following after him. "So, listen-"

"-No, leave me alone," Draco snapped petulantly. "I don't care. I hate you. We're no longer friends."

Harry frowned, hurt flashing across his features. "You don't mean that."

Draco looked back at him, grey eyes angry. As he registered his friend's hurt expression he heaved a deep sigh, shrugging his shoulders.

"Fine." He stopped in his tracks, Harry still looking upset as he trailed behind him. "What is it you've discovered?"

Harry glared at him. "Doesn't matter," he sniped.

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. "You know I didn't mean it. Merlin, you're such a girl sometimes. What is it?"

Harry glared at him for another minute before his excitement resurfaced, getting the best of him. He hesitated for a moment, considering continuing his refusal to tell the other before giving in.

"I found out that Hagrid is giving detention in the Forbidden Forest tonight!" he cheered.

Draco stared at him.

Then he blinked.

"I'm sorry. Please try explaining to me again why you want us to go into the Forbidden Forest, late at night, in detention, with the gamekeeper."

"Because of the dead unicorns!"

"_What?_"

"Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were talking and they said that something was killing unicorns. They think it's Quirrel and they're both going to follow him tonight, they're really sure he'll be there. It'll be perfectly safe. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape are going to be watching us - and whoever else is in detention, I suppose - and Hagrid will be there!"

Draco stared at him in horror.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't you see? It's a great plan! We can find out what Quirrel's up to, and be totally safe. And-"

"Harry, if he's drinking unicorn blood it's _not_ Quirrel," Draco whispered very hoarsely.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Unicorn blood can save people from the brink of death, Harry. At a cost. You would only take it if you were, basically, already dead."

Harry's blood chilled. "You think that Quirrel, is-"

"-I don't know. But I do know, that if he is, he'll be after you Harry."

* * *

"You need to tell me these things before I begin to execute my plans," Harry groaned miserably into a pillow from where he lay, face-down on the couch in their dorm.

"Maybe I would be able to, if you ran them by me before noisily knocking over large cauldrons of potions," he snapped.

"Well, stop me next time," Harry insisted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Try as you may, you can't make this my fault. And I thought you would have at least tried to get detention from a different Professor."

"Why? Snape's easy, he already hates me," Harry said, rolling over on to his back.

"No he doesn't. I think he might have actually been starting to like you. He wasn't criticizing your potion at all at the end. He let you leave the classroom for ages to get the Boomslang skin, and didn't question it at all. And he didn't even punish you when you knocked over the first potion. He only got mad after you knocked over the second one and screamed at the top of your lungs."

"You really think he was warming up to me?"

"Harry, that's about as warm as he gets."

Harry glared at him. "He treats you nicer."

"I'm his godson."

"Oh. Right," Harry said, sighing. He flicked some fuzz off the edge of his bed, sulking for a few moments.

Draco turned to his wardrobe, pulling out new robes. The old ones had gotten splashed with potion in Harry's wild attack of his cauldron.

"So are you going to go to detention with me?" Harry asked hopefully after he finished his sulking.

Draco nodded. "Of course."

"What's your plan?" he asked curiously.

Draco smirked. "Oh don't worry, you'll see."

* * *

The black-haired Slytherin trailed sleepily down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Draco walked in front of him, smirking broadly. Despite Harry's pleadings, he still had no idea what his plan was to get detention.

He was starting to get the feeling he wouldn't like what the blond Slytherin had in mind at all. Try as he might though, he didn't have any clue what it could be.

"Won't you give me a hint?" Harry pleaded.

Draco laughed. "No."

The blond pushed open the door to the Great Hall and held it open for the other wizard, nodding. Harry smiled and nodded his thanks, stepping in and wincing as the sun hit his eyes.

Draco ripped out his wand, pointing it at the other and calling out an incantation Harry didn't recognize.

The green-eyed Slytherin spun around, jaw dropping in shock. To his distaste though, he found his knees felt weak and spongey underneath him, and trying to move ended with him collapsing on to the ground.

"What was that for!" Harry shouted, glaring up at the others as he repeatedly attempted to struggle to his feet.

Confusion swept over the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall and Draco laughed.

"You look ridiculous," the blond snickered. Harry fumbled for his wand, as the blond cast another jinx. Harry felt an odd sensation like water running down the back of his neck and grabbed his hair.

A few snickers erupted from the Gryffindor table and Draco sent them a nasty glare which seemed to confuse some of the first years.

Harry noted the purple hair he could see framing the edge of his vision.

"What did you _do?_" he gasped in horror, eyes wide with betrayal.

Draco lifted his wand again.

"Mr. Malfoy! That is quite enough! Professor Flitwick's voice called out as the small wizard came stomping over. "Detention! And five points from Slytherin for this outrageous behavior!"

Draco smiled widely, nodding. "Of course, Professor Flitwick."

The small Charms Professor nodded, seeming confused but frustrated. He turned to Harry and flicked his wand. Harry felt normal sensation return to his limbs and noted as his hair returned to its usual color in the corners of his eyes.

He glared at the blond as he stumbled back to his feet.

Draco gave him a grin, white teeth showing.

"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?" he inquired.

Harry nodded. "I think so," he mumbled. "Thank you Professor."

Flitwick nodded. "Return to your table. You'll be serving detention tonight. Make sure this doesn't happen again," he said stiffly.

Draco nodded, heading toward the Slytherin table with a spring in his step. Harry followed after him grumpily.

"That was mean," Harry snapped as he sank into his seat on the bench.

"Are you two fighting?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Yes," Harry snapped.

"No," Draco said casually, smiling at Harry.

"Right," Blaise responded, turning away from the two odd Slytherins.

"You could have told me," Harry snapped at the other as he angrily slammed down a roll on to his plate.

"But the look on your face was just so perfect," he protested.

* * *

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